Love Me Two Times
by 7.06andcounting
Summary: 'He didn't say it often, but when Steve Randle told me he loved me, I believed him. Of course, when he said that 'nothing in this world' would keep us apart, I believed that too...' Fourth story in series, following 'The Only Kind', 'Our Kind' and 'Our One Rule'.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Well, I don't know if there is an ideal time to post a sequel, but this was ready, so here goes!**

**Fourth in my Evie stories, following on from 'The Only Kind', 'Our Kind' and 'Our One Rule'. Not compulsory to read those first, but probably helpful! **

**Title from a song by The Doors, which I don't own, any more than I own The Outsiders. Which is not at all, because I am not S.E. Hinton. Damn.**

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_**November 1966:**_

Funerals are kind of an ending. And yet, looking back, Eddie's funeral was more like the beginning of something.

Eddie wasn't _old_ old, I suppose. Not like some wrinkled grandpa falling asleep for the last time, after a real long life. But he was ill and he'd prepared for this. The funeral was paid for, everything tied up as neat as the rest of his life.

Did that make it a more 'normal' funeral, if there is such a thing? Because Eddie wasn't a kid? And everyone had time to see that it was coming?

There was certainly a very unreal feeling to both Johnny and Dallas's ceremonies, but I wasn't exactly myself back then. And Trey's was wrong on each and every level. Eddie's was different again, everything was organized by him, before he went.

Didn't mean Steve was prepared for it though.

I waited for him to break down and cry, like he had the day he found out that Eddie had cancer. He didn't. He got quiet. People would have laughed if I tried to explain that, I mean, this was Steve Randle, he was never exactly chatty. But this was different.

On the day Eddie died, I was outside his room at the hospital, like I had been for most of the time, just waiting on Steve. He came out with the doctor and they spoke quietly, before Steve walked over to me.

He sat down on the uncomfortable hospital chair next to me, staring hard at the floor. "I gotta sign some forms." He sounded real calm. "My dad died," he added, quiet but matter fact.

I hugged him but he didn't really hug me back.

"I'd better see about those forms," he said, heading over to the nurses' station.

When we got back from the hospital, I called Soda and he came over and they sat up late, drinking steadily without getting drunk, as far as I could see. Talking some, but mostly not. I wondered what it had been like the opposite way around, when Mr. and Mrs. Curtis were killed, when Steve would have been supporting Soda. That must have been another funeral out of the blue, like Johnny, like Dallas. Like Trey.

Steve found his way to bed around three in the morning, crawled in and wrapped himself around me. I tried to stay awake in case he wanted to talk, but I felt my eyes closing again. He just held onto me. I don't think he slept.

It was a pattern that set in, over the next few days.

On the day of the funeral, when I woke up, Steve was already getting dressed.

"Did I wake you, babe?" he apologized, pulling his tie undone with a frustrated shake. He began redoing it. I'd never seen him in a suit and tie. He'd worn a smart shirt for Sarah's wedding, but not the whole deal.

"Is it late?" I still hated that he didn't have an alarm clock on his night table.

"Nah. I was just...awake. Thought I might as well get started. Soda was kind of hung over. He went home to change his clothes."

"Did you make him coffee?"

"Yeah, yeah..._wait_." He turned to me with a suspicious look. "_You_ want coffee. That's what you're saying, right?"

I smiled sweetly. "Thanks, baby."

It was never going to be a good day, but he smiled. At least half a smile. And I got coffee.

I'd bought a new dress for Trey's funeral. And even back then, in September, I'd known that it would have to be used again soon, for Eddie, so I'd picked something classy that gained even Sarah's approval. I knew I'd made the right decision when people started showing up at Steve's house, before we set out. Black suits. Black dresses. Hats.

Some people that I didn't think were going to the funeral came by; neighbors who brought food, placed it on the table and left again. Several cars from out of state arrived out front.

Steve greeted an older couple who came up the front steps and right into the house without knocking, asserting their position as family. I trailed behind. I didn't know what to do with myself, other than stay by him.

"Steve, sweetheart, how are you?"

I wanted to poke his Aunt Beth in the eye as she questioned him. She'd been the same at the hospital. Seriously, how did she think he was?

The mousy haired girl who'd arrived with her gave Steve a hug and didn't ask any stupid questions. "Hey. I'm Elle." She smiled at me.

"L?" I repeated, like an idiot.

"El-izabeth. I go by 'Elle'. We got a whole bunch of 'Elizabeths' in the family."

Oh. That made more sense. I introduced myself. She asked if I wanted any help with the food. I looked at the table.

"I have no idea." Was it somehow my job? My responsibility? Because I was Steve's girlfriend? Shit, what was I supposed to do about it? I shrugged. "People just keep bringing it..."

"Yeah. They do that." Soda came up behind me. He must have snuck in the back door. He and Steve looked very different dressed in suits. I could almost have walked past them on the street without recognizing them.

"Sodapop?" Elle peered at him.

"Elle, that you? Hey now, it's been a while. Where'd the pigtails go?" He smiled at her.

I poked at a plate of sweet rolls someone had deposited without me even seeing them.

"People'll eat it. _After_," Soda told me. "Just don't break the dishes. They come back for their stuff." He shrugged as I shot him a grateful look. I figured he knew the score. I figured the Curtis boys were probably snowed under with food, if that's what people's reaction to death is.

And I needn't have worried because Beth took over, organizing plates and glasses and cups. She didn't seem to think it was weird, how neat everything in the cabinets was; maybe she was the same. She was Eddie's sister after all. No. Scratch that idea. 'Cause I wasn't anything like Sarah.

When we went outside, there was a short but heated discussion as to whether Steve would ride in his aunt and uncle's car or some other relative's - Eddie's cousin, I think he was. Steve started to get a tight set to his jaw that I recognized with a sinking heart.

"I'mma drive myself," he said, through gritted teeth.

"Nah, you ain't." The steel in Soda's voice made me look at him in surprise. He did not sound like his usual self. There was no smile. He mirrored Steve's mulish look. Steve opened his mouth to say something and Soda launched forwards, not exactly pushing him, but moving him away from the other people, backing him against the corner of the porch.

"Gimme the keys," he said levelly.

"Soda..."

"Give. Me. The. Keys." Soda leaned in close to him, dropping his voice to a hoarse whisper. "Don't you think I know what I'm talking about?"

I watched as Steve dug in his pocket and handed over the key to the Chevy. Soda threw his arm around Steve's neck, in one of those 'guy hugs' that resemble a head lock, talking right into his ear as he walked him down the steps.

"Here's how it's gonna go. You ride with your aunt, that's the right thing. I will drive Evie. An' then I will drive you an' Evie back here after. It's just a day, man. Get through today. Let us do for you, for today."

Steve leaned against him, for a couple of seconds. He nodded.

Once we were driving, Soda asked me for a cigarette.

"Light it for me?" he asked, stabbing the car lighter harder than Steve would have liked to see.

He was the most wasteful smoker I ever saw. Usually. He seemed to forget he had a weed and let it burn away while he yakked. This one, he sucked right down. It didn't really seem to relax him. Like I said, this was never going to be a good day.

At the cemetery, there were even more people. Steve was passed from person to person, handshake after handshake. I couldn't even tell if he knew most of them - Eddie's workmates, his friends, some of their wives. They said the same kind of thing over and over; they were sorry for Steve's loss, he was to let them know if they could do anything. Steve nodded, like that made sense.

The only time he looked like he wasn't sleepwalking was when he saw Darry and Two-Bit and Tony.

Sarah wasn't with Tony, but that was because she was so sick this time around. 'Morning sickness' was apparently just a name, not a definition of the time you actually puked. Ma said it was a good sign, meant that the baby was strong. But then, she also said it was a sign it was a girl, so it was probably all old wives' tales.

"You didn't need to take off work," Steve said in surprise to them. Darry shook his head and gripped his arm, as Two-Bit clapped him on the back from the other side. Tony murmured something about how sorry he was.

"Come on, Steve. Like we wouldn't be here for you?" Darry said.

"Yeah. Like we wouldn't," came a quieter voice.

I turned around and saw Ponyboy. His suit jacket didn't fit him real good. He must have grown some since the last time he needed to wear it. He shoved his hands in his jeans' pockets, awkward now that everyone's attention was on him. I guess his dress pants were beyond saving, and there weren't any hand me downs yet, since Soda was still using his own suit.

Steve swallowed and nodded, not quite meeting any of their eyes. "Thanks, guys."

He was being called to go stand by his aunt, so things could start. There was a hell of a lot of telling him what to do today. I had a feeling he would only take so much of it.

Two-Bit gave me a quick hug. "You hanging in there, Tink?" he asked in a whisper.

"Me?" I didn't know what he was getting at.

"Yeah, you. You're kind of little to be holding him up, you yell if you need back up, huh?"

I smiled at him gratefully and we went to stand behind Steve.

Once again I found it hard to take in what was being said. I was so focused on Steve, that I barely heard a word the minister said. Steve flinched a couple of times as bits of Eddie's life were listed, but mostly he had that stunned, sleep walking look on him. He put his hand back towards me and I held onto it.

Aunt Beth started dabbing at her eyes as they did the stuff with the dirt at the end. I didn't remember that part from Dallas's or Trey's funeral. It seemed like something out of a movie to me.

Soda and Ponyboy had their arms looped around each other and I thought again how incredibly difficult this must be. How they must be thinking about their folks, who were buried somewhere nearby.

How fucking strong Soda was, to be helping Steve despite all that.

People started moving away, back towards their cars.

Steve was staring at the grave, rubbing his hand on his jacket, although I was sure it didn't have any dirt left on it. I reached forwards and tucked my hand in his again, to stop him, bringing his attention back.

"Do you wanna...stay a while?" Soda asked him quietly. He indicated all the people leaving. "We can wait for you by the car."

Steve glanced at the grave, then back at Soda. At me. He shook his head slowly. "I guess it's done."

As we walked down towards the cars, I could see the other guys heading towards Darry's truck. Ponyboy stumbled over his feet and Darry reached out and dropped his arm around his shoulders, bending his head to say something. I thought about the three of them having each other, at least, around the house in the days after their parents went.

Once we were in the car, Steve opened the passenger window wide and pulled his tie loose, like he'd been finding it hard to breathe.

"You know there's gonna be people at your pad, right?" Soda said to him, although we'd gone over the arrangements plenty in the last day or so. "They're gonna be talking about your dad, but you don't gotta do anything, say anything, if you don't wanna. Just ride it out, man, they'll be gone soon enough."

"What?" Steve hadn't been listening. Soda caught my eye in the rear view.

I scooted forwards and rubbed Steve's arm. He held my hand and looked out the window again.

xxXxx

The front room was full of people. I escaped to the kitchen with a couple of empty dishes and ran some water into the sink.

"You don't need to do that now." Elle came in, also holding a stack of plates.

I pulled a face. "I think it's better if these ones are done. The neighbors can take 'em right back."

She picked up a dish towel. "Okay. Let me help." She got to it, before I could say yes or no. She asked how long Steve and I had been together and when I told her – without the detailed explanation of our 'lost' three months – she smiled. "I figured. You seem real comfortable with each other. I mean, he's kind of out of it today, I know. But it seems that way."

"Maybe I should go back in."

"Nah. He's got some Army buddy of Uncle Eddie's yakking in his and Sodapop's ears." She looked out of the window, where some guys were smoking in the back yard. "Don't tell me that's little Ponyboy? I thought my eyes were playing a trick on me at the cemetery. Hell, he grew!" She covered her mouth with her free hand. "Oh, Lord, I probably shouldn't say 'hell' at a funeral."

"Probably shouldn't say 'Oh, Lord' neither then," I teased her.

"Oh...well, now I'm stuck!" She grinned at me. Then she went a little pink and turned away from the window. I couldn't see what she was worried about.

The screen snapped open and Two-Bit came into the kitchen.

"I do declare, Miss Elizabeth," he said, in full Rhett Butler mode. "I thought I saw your pretty face in the window."

"Keith Mathews, you are as full of..._nonsense_ as I remember..." Elle caught herself mid sentence.

He winced dramatically. She pulled a face right back.

"An' you know I don't go by _Elizabeth_. So, _Keith_, unless, you want..."

"Okay, okay. I hear ya. Stop callin' me that!" He grinned. He studied us and he lazed back against the kitchen table, folding his arms, to do it. "Almost perfect. Two hot chicks in the kitchen. Now if only one of y'all was fetching me a beer..."

We both launched at the same time, but she was nearer, so the dishtowel hit him before the wet cloth I was using. I have a pretty good aim, though, and I got him in the face. I smiled sweetly as I carried the serving dishes back through.

"See ya later, _Keith_," I said.

A few people had left, because there was space in between everyone now and, as I put the things on the table, an old lady I didn't know claimed a large plate as hers. She patted my hand and told me I was a good girl for cleaning up. I thanked her for the...'food', I had to call it. I had no idea what had been on the plate.

Just like at a party, once a few people left, more began to follow. It's like some kind of unwritten rule, I guess, that it's okay to go once you see that someone else went before you.

Steve and Soda were sitting on the couch with an older guy who was talking about Eddie. Jo was with Soda, curled up next to him. She and Lynette had come over after work. Neither of them knew Eddie, but they were there to support their guys, both of them knowing, like I did, that this must have brought back memories of Mr. and Mrs. Curtis's funeral.

Soda looked real interested in the conversation and, as I perched on the arm of the couch, I realized the guy was talking about his army days, when he and Eddie had been in the same unit.

"Did he never tell you about the time we snuck out and the jeep broke down an' we hadda push it all the way back?"

Steve shook his head. He had an empty glass in his hand and I could see an almost empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the coffee table in front of them. Several of the men had turned up clutching bottles, 'in honor of Eddie'.

I reached for the glass and Steve jumped. He obviously hadn't noticed me sit down. He let me take the glass and then he slid his arm around me. I could tell he wasn't really listening to the guy, but Soda was asking questions in all the right places. I leaned in and gave Steve a hug.

"You okay, baby?"

He looked up at me and shook his head slightly.

"Hang on in there, huh?" I tried to make him smile, but he didn't.

Two-Bit came through, with Elle and Ponyboy, just as the old Army guy decided to leave. The last few people were heading out, including the man I still wasn't sure was a cousin. Steve's Aunt Beth told him to come say goodbye to them. He was a little unsteady as he got to his feet. He'd also about reached his limit of being told what to do, I could tell by the way his jaw twitched.

But, he politely thanked the people for coming, agreed, once again, that he would call if they could help in any way. Most of them were practically strangers, so I have no idea how that was supposed to work. People have to say _something_, I guess.

While they were by the front door, Elle marshaled Two-Bit and Pony to scoop up the empty glasses and plates and full ashtrays. Darry and Lynette joined in and the place started looking a lot clearer.

When Steve and his aunt came back, she was talking about staying over. I realized she meant staying right there in the house.

Steve said no. Not as rudely as he might have. But more forcefully than he would if he wasn't half crocked. I stood up, starting to get worried.

"But, I can't bear to think of you all alone now," his aunt wailed.

"I ain't alone."

"You're being very brave, but you don't realize –"

"I ain't being fuc... _being brave_." He caught himself just in time. He was definitely on the way to being wasted. And worse.

Soda was up on his feet now, also a little worse for wear, but focused on Steve, because he heard what I did. Steve was close to losing it. His aunt's husband spoke up for the first time, I swear that was the first time I heard the man's voice. And then all he offered was,

"Settle down, now." No one even looked at him.

Steve took a breath. "Maybe you forget that dad was out of town half the time anyways. It ain't like him not being here is unusual. And when he was here, he didn't much care whether I was."

"Steve!" Beth sounded shocked.

He shrugged, his tone bitter. "Yeah, well. That's just how it was."

She stared at him in horror. "I think you're upset right now, and that's all the more reason I shouldn't leave you on your own."

Steve slung one arm around me, reaching back with the other and grabbing Soda by the shirt, pulling him forwards a step.

"I ain't on my own."

"That's true."

I looked over in surprise, as Darry spoke up. They were all back in the room. I noticed Elle smiling broadly as the other guys came over to our side of the room. It was almost like a standoff.

"Ma'am, believe me. The one thing you don't have to worry about, is Steve being on his own." Darry sounded so calm, so controlled. I wanted to hug him.

"You're obviously good friends but –"

Steve cut across her. "_Friends?_ These are the people who are here for me. Who have always been here for me. These people are _family_." He shook his head in irritation. "I heard y'all talking 'bout me selling the house and moving up to Kansas. Ain't gonna happen. I got a job here, this is my house, this is where I live."

Elle stepped up, stopped her mom arguing any more, got her moving towards the front door, although she still yakked on and on about how Steve could go and live with them, any time he wanted. Eventually, they left.

Steve stood in the middle of the room, looking around. He moved towards one of the armchairs – it had been shoved sideways, while the room was so full of people and it no longer stood square to the couch, like it always had before. Like his dad had things set.

Then he stopped, frozen with his arm out, without moving the chair back into place.

"Fuck it," he said precisely. And he kicked the chair slightly further out of line.

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**A/N: So. Here we go again. :) I feel like this was place setting - the story will get going next chapter, I promise. Let me know who's in, 'cause I can update quickly...**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow. Just wow. Every time I post a new story, my heart is in my mouth, so thank you all you lovely read/review/follow/favoriters, that was a great welcome for this story! If you 'guested' it and I couldn't reply directly, 'Thank you'. :)**

**How's this for fast, as promised? **

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_**January 1967...**_

I knew that I knew her face from somewhere. You know when you see someone and you can't quite remember where you know them from, like maybe you see your doctor's receptionist at the grocery store, or something? Out of context it isn't always easy to get a fix on a person.

So, when the chick walked into the DX, I felt like I ought to know her. She did kind of a double take as her eyes swept past me; she obviously thought the same. Or she might have just been wondering why I was sitting on the counter in front of the cash register.

I was bored, was the main reason. Steve had promised me he'd finish up early and we'd salvage what was left of the evening.

We were supposed to be sitting down and talking through 'stuff'. After Eddie died, it might have seemed like the obvious step, that I would move in with Steve. We'd been talking about it - hell, he'd talked about us getting married, getting an apartment. But all of that had been pushed aside, of course, when Eddie got sick. I understood that. But it was like it had evaporated entirely as Steve struggled to deal with his loss. It seemed to knock his confidence as far as planning went; the idea that he'd had, to start up his own workshop, hadn't been mentioned for a while.

Ma said that it wasn't the time to push him. That no one should make decisions while they were grieving and I guessed that she knew what she was talking about.

So, I was caught in a half way state, sleeping over plenty in what was now Steve's house, but not officially 'moved in'. I had insisted on my own toothbrush though, and a few other bits and pieces that had crept in.

And now, I discovered, sharing a house with a pregnant Sarah was not a whole bundle of laughs. I turned eighteen a month ago. I wanted to talk it all through with Steve and have us sort out something more permanent.

But I'd arrived to find him deep inside the metal guts of yet another urgent case, out in the workshop, with Soda nominally working the pumps. I say 'nominally' because he was actually darting back and forth between the odd customer and the workshop, helping Steve with whatever he was up to his elbows in.

So I said I'd watch the cash register and they could both work out back. I'd only had to call Soda through for a single customer, so it made more sense for them both to be out there. Maybe that way I'd get to see Steve before midnight.

The chick walked up to me.

"Looking for Steve Randle," she said briskly.

"Nah. I know where he is."

She didn't appreciate my stab at humor. She scowled. "No. _I'm_ looking for him."

I still didn't think she was a customer. There was no car outside and she looked like some kind of hippie. It's not like they're exactly known for spending money on the VWs they bomb around in.

"Who wants him?" I scowled right back.

She folded her arms. "He here, or not?"

Damn his timing, he chose that second to walk through.

"Hey, babe, sorry about this -" It was quite something to see him stop in his tracks as he saw both of us.

"Hey," the chick said flatly.

"Hey." Steve sounded equally unenthusiastic.

"I gotta talk to ya."

"Go on then." He deliberately walked around in back of the counter, leaning on it next to me. She looked from him to me a couple of times and then she shrugged.

"Maybe I'll just show ya." She stalked back out the door.

I turned to look at Steve. He looked nonplussed.

"She's crazy," he whispered, kissing me. "I ain't even seen her in over a year." _Oh_. Now I remembered. She was the chick he'd taken around a few times, when we were broken up. I had a split second of irrational hatred – we hadn't been together, so it wasn't something I could justify, but Steve distracted me. He was whispering in my ear that he was nearly done with the car and telling me what he intended to do to make up for lost time, when the door opened again. I pushed him off and we both turned to see the chick – Becky? – walk back in, pushing a stroller.

Sodapop came in, just in time to see Steve recoil, pushing himself back off the counter, the expression on his face anticipating the words that Becky threw into the space between us.

"This is your kid."

"The fuck it is!" A typical Randle reaction. Becky looked bored, if anything.

"Whatever," she said. "I've had enough. He's goin' to the Catholic society, put up for adoption tomorrow. They said to let you know, 'cause they don't want any come back, so..." She gestured at the stroller. "There he is. Tell me you're okay with it and we're done."

"What the...?"

"Wait a minute..!"

Steve and Soda spoke across each other. The baby, not much more than a lump in the blanket, started making snuffling noises.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Soda sounded appalled.

"Because there's nothin' to tell," Steve protested. "That ain't my kid!"

"Birth certificate says otherwise, lover." The smirk on Becky's face was begging to be wiped off and I was ready to line up for the privilege. She reached down and yanked the knitted hat off the baby's head, revealing a head of dark curls, shooting all of us a significant look.

My brain had stopped working, I think. That was the only explanation for why I couldn't make my tongue work_. Steve made a baby. With this_...skank. I had to force myself to take a steadying breath. _Steve made a baby?_

"You can't just do that without tellin' him." Soda objected to the birth certificate idea.

"Well, I did. They asked which no good asshole knocked me up an' I told 'em. So they typed it in, real neat. I brought it, if you're that interested."

The baby had started to cry. She absentmindedly told it to hush.

"You can't just give it away." Soda was edging towards the stroller, the baby's noise was obviously starting to get to him. "You can't rock up, tell him he's got a kid and then make it disappear."

"Look, I don't make the rules. They told me, if you know who the father is, tell him about the adoption, get his 'okay', in case it causes all kinds of shit to hit the fan later on. I just wanna get on with my life."

Soda had got as far as crouching down by the baby, trying to make it stop crying by poking it and wiggling its little hand. It worked, some.

"What if I ain't okay with it?"

I nearly fell off the counter at the question. I looked at Steve. I had a nasty feeling I recognized that stubborn set to his chin. Hell, if this chick pissed him off right now, he was liable to make trouble for her for no other reason than because he could.

Becky gave a short laugh. "Oh, please. You want him? Be my guest. Long as I get to walk away, I don't give a flying fuck."

Soda stood up angrily. "What's the matter with you? How can you say something like that?"

I slid off the counter slowly as Steve walked around. I thought he was going to call Soda off, or at least intervene in the argument that was now building between his buddy and Becky. But he stopped, looking down at the baby, wary, but at the same time curious. Whatever Soda had been doing had been interesting enough that the noise had stopped, but the snuffling was building up again.

"What's its name?" Steve asked.

Becky folded her arms. "John. Lennon."

An identical wince passed over both the guys' faces. She smirked.

Steve chewed his lip. "How old is it?"

"Five months. Birthday's August fifth...Use your fingers, if you like, lover," Becky sniped as we all watched Steve start counting in his head. He looked back at me, not exactly guiltily, but I knew that the time frame fitted.

"You are a first class bitch." Everyone's attention snapped onto me as I spoke up, finally finding my tongue. "Why do this now? Why the hell didn't you tell him before?"

"Are you deaf, or just real slow? I already..."

"Bullshit!" I cut across her. "I don't think the Catholic society care about Steve's opinion. I don't believe they told you to tell him, just now, tonight."

She smiled slowly. "You're right. Here's the deal. I'm outta here tomorrow. I been living with these guys in a house, just found out it's being foreclosed tomorrow. They're takin' their band on the road and I'mma tag along. No room for a kid on the bus."

Soda was getting real red in the face. Something about her casual disregard for her own child was winding him past the point of no return. But it was another question from Steve that broke the silence.

"How long you gone for?"

Becky looked at him with sly interest. "Coupla weeks."

"You ain't giving it away just for a vacation." It was an order and she heard it. Steve set himself square in front of her. "Where's all its gear? I'll look after it. We can talk about it in a coupla weeks when you get back."

"Shut the fuck up. You do _not_ want this, you don't know what you're takin' on."

"I know this: If this is my kid, you ain't throwing it away for the sake of a coupla weeks' vacation."

A weird look came over Becky's face. "Okay," she said. "Okay. If that's what you want. I'll bring you the rest of his gear." She started walking towards the door.

"Hey." It was Soda who pointed out the stroller.

Becky laughed at him. "Start as y'all mean to go on." She disappeared out the door.

We looked at each other, the three of us, as the baby started crying.

"Uh, Steve..." I wasn't sure what I intended to say. He finally cracked that stubborn mask and looked like it was just occurring to him that he'd made a mistake.

Soda was fiddling with the seat belt thing on the stroller and he lifted the baby up at arm's length. It caught its breath at the novelty of being moved, then it started screaming for real. Soda's eyes flicked between Steve and me, obviously regretting his impulse.

"Put it back down," Steve snapped.

"You probably need to stop calling _him_ 'it'," I pointed out.

In maneuvering the baby, Soda had ended up with it balanced against his shoulder. That must have suited the kid better, because the noise slowed to a few wobbly breaths. Soda patted the baby on the back experimentally, looking very pleased with himself.

"Well, I ain't calling it fucking _John Lennon_," Steve responded to my comment.

"Steve! You can't cuss like that in front of the baby."

"Its mother did."

"She ain't exactly prize winning Mommy material." I looked thoughtfully at the door.

Soda did too.

Then Steve.

"She ain't coming back, is she?" Soda put into words what we were all thinking.

xxXxx

I sat rigidly in the back seat of the Chevy, the baby balanced on my lap, while Steve and Soda argued over folding up the stroller.

"Look, this obviously hinges here," I heard Soda mutter. Steve swore mightily and I saw Soda leap backwards out of range as Steve shouted,

"The fuck you doing, Curtis? You about took my hand off!"

"But it folded." Soda tried one of his trademark grins.

"With my hand in it!" Steve snarled back.

I called out, "Can we just get going?" The baby was eyeing me in a way that freaked me out. He was gnawing on his fist, but I wasn't convinced that would keep him quiet long.

Steve slammed the trunk shut and the baby jumped, his face crumpling.

"Whoa. Chill, little dude." I jiggled him a bit and he went back to staring at me.

The guys climbed in and I hissed at them not to slam the doors. Steve drove us, reasonably gently, to the Curtis house, which a quick vote had confirmed as the best destination in the circumstances. I have no idea why we all thought that, maybe we weren't really thinking past getting out of the DX.

Steve and Soda had closed up quickly, although we waited a good spell before we admitted defeat and accepted that Becky wasn't coming back.

So, we pulled up outside Soda's pad and I waited for one of them to open the door for me. Steve looked back at me from the gate, like he wondered why I was still sitting there.

"Kind of got my hands full," I pointed out.

He came back over and opened the door. I lifted the baby towards him. He took a step back.

"Oh, no you don't." I warned. "You started this all, you take him. I wanna get out."

He put his hands around the baby's torso and held him awkwardly, much like Soda when he first picked him up, except now the baby was facing away from Steve as I got out of the car. I rolled my eyes at him and between us we turned the baby around, although he still held him like he was moving a rock from one side of the yard to the other. The baby kicked his legs wildly.

Ponyboy did a comical double take from his seat on the couch as we came through the front door. He sat forward, eyes wide.

"Is that a baby?"

"Christ, no wonder they say you're the smart one, kid." Steve was standing in the middle of the room, looking around like he expected that inspiration would hit him any second as to what to do next.

"Leave him alone," I said reflexively, dropping onto the couch myself, next to Pony, who smiled at me gratefully. It didn't really bother him these days, that Steve snapped, but he appreciated that I pointed out when it happened. Soda had sat himself down in the armchair and was rooting through the bag which had been on a sort of shelf under the stroller.

"Coulda sworn you said...'_baby_'..." Darry trailed off as he came through from the kitchen with a mug in his hand. He looked at all of us in disbelief.

"You'll never guess what was on 'special' at the DX?" I quipped.

Steve glared at me. He gave up on inspiration and sat on the floor, laying the baby down in front of him between his outstretched legs, where the baby wriggled a bit, keeping his eyes on Steve.

"Somebody say something sensible..." Darry warned.

"Steve had a baby," Soda piped up, cheerfully. "Well, not _Steve_, obviously." He pulled his legs back as Steve swiped a slap at him. "This chick showed up. Said it's Steve's. Kinda looks like it is." He waved a piece of paper that looked suspiciously like a birth certificate, from the pile of stuff he'd taken out of the bag.

Ponyboy had been peering at the baby, tilting his head around to see the little face. He nodded.

"Kinda does. Look like Steve, I mean," he said. I nodded. It really did. Darry came a little closer, inspected the baby from a distance.

"Where is this chick?" he asked. We all shrugged.

Steve pulled a face. "Took off."

"Are you serious?" Darry looked confused. "She showed up, told you this is your kid and left? Left _it_? Why...? How...? _Are you serious?_"

"I know." Soda smiled at him. "That's what I said, more or less."

Darry blinked. "And you brought it here. Because...?"

Steve looked at him blankly.

"I ain't kidding. You brought it here, why?" Darry's tone was getting less and less friendly.

"Brought what here?" Two-Bit launched himself from the kitchen door. He must have come in through the back. "Holy Christ! Whose is this?" He sat on the floor and began making faces at the baby, who looked back like all this attention was perfectly normal.

Darry groaned as Soda went through the story again. Two-Bit gaped a little, although it was hard to tell, because he kept playing with the kid, blowing raspberries and generally acting like a baby himself.

"You're gonna haveta call the cops, the Department of Child Welfare, or someone." Darry said firmly.

"No!" Steve and Ponyboy reacted in unison and then looked stunned at the fact that they both spoke at the same time.

"How can you say that?" Pony said quietly. "Darry. C'mon. Not the state."

Darry bit his lip. "It ain't the same, Pony. It ain't like you being taken to a boys' home. This is a baby. It don't know any different, but it oughta be looked after properly."

"I can look after it," Steve said stubbornly.

"Be serious, man." Darry shook his head. "You don't know how to look after a kid. You're gonna haveta -"

"I said, NO!" Steve stuck his hand out over the baby. It was a reflexive gesture, no one was moving to touch the baby, to take it or anything. But the baby reached out and grabbed Steve's finger, the chubby little hand fastening all the way around.

I watched as Steve froze, his attention going from Darry to that little hand, his attitude going from simply stubborn to...what, I wasn't sure, but something softer, something that started in his eyes and ended in my heart.

_Oh, God. Steve made a baby. And not with me._

The baby dragged Steve's hand to his mouth and slobbered on it. Steve started to smile.

"I hope your daddy washed his hands of all that nasty oil, little -" Two-Bit broke off from his jabbering to look at us. "What's he called?"

Steve grimaced. Soda waved the birth certificate again.

"John. John Lennon Roberts. She didn't get to give him 'Randle', I guess, cause you ain't married."

Two-Bit choked a little. "_John Lennon_...?" Soda snickered some.

"You can't call him...John." Pony's quiet voice was still easily heard above them. "Not like Johnny."

Steve glanced up at Pony, his expression clouding over, his voice tight. "Nah. We ain't calling him Johnny."

"Call him 'J', then," Two-Bit offered. "Huh? Jay-bird, you like that?" The baby gurgled at him. "He likes it," Two-Bit announced happily.

"You're all crazy. It don't matter what you call him. You can't keep him." Darry rolled his eyes.

I put my hand on Steve's shoulder as he started to tense up again. This was all about Steve now, in my head _and _my heart.

"We can. If his mom left him with Steve, and Steve wants to, we can." Steve looked at me gratefully. "It's just a couple of weeks, right?" I said. "And you do know I don't know nothin' about babies?"

* * *

**_xXxAngel-With-A-ShotgunxXx Remember a while back when you read my mind? I know we were discussing a different father, but here's why I couldn't jump on the idea, _****_I was already writing this!_**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Point of interest, for those who want confirmation (for Steve!). It's 1967, no DNA tests available and although there will be talk of a blood test, it is not what we are used to nowadays - more on that later. I promise I did the research! And I know this was a huge switch in direction, but bear with me, I think you'll still get the fic you wanted/expected... ;)**

* * *

I think we lasted about forty minutes that first night.

It was one thing to say we'd look after the baby – Jay, as he quickly became – when he was lying there looking sweet, it was quite another when he started bawling. Like really bawling. We all took turns picking him up and variously joggling, patting and rocking him. Well, all except Pony - who was terrified of touching the baby -and Darry, who retreated to his room with dark threats of what would happen if his sleep was disturbed.

Eventually, Two-Bit picked up the phone and called for help. In about five minutes, salvation in the shape of a red headed woman walked in the front door. Two-Bit had lost the latest round of 'pass the yelling' and was holding Jay at that point.

"Glory be, son, this had better not be yours," she said, standing there with her hands on her hips as she looked us all over.

Two-Bit grinned. "No ma'am. I'm just holdin' it for a friend." He nodded quickly towards Steve as she raised an eyebrow, in a very recognizable way.

"If I didn't hear the poor thing yelling over the phone, I'd've thought you was spinnin' me a line."

"Me? Spin you a line, Ma?" He grinned again. "That don't sound like me."

She rolled her eyes and reached for the baby.

"Well, for a start, he's too hot." Mrs. Mathews began pulling off the baby's cardigan. "Y'all took your coats off, didn't you, when you came inside?" She rolled her eyes again. "Glory, use your heads. And..." She patted the other wool encased half. "He's wet."

We all looked at each other blankly, in what was becoming a new habit. She sighed.

"Where exactly is this child's mother?"

As the story spilled out, she ran out of patience and pointed at Soda. "Honey, look in that bag. I want whatever looks like a blanket or towel."

He dug around and passed her a square of material that she flicked onto the floor one handed, laying the baby down, where it squealed some more. She held out her hand for the bag as she knelt down.

"Lemme see what's in there." She found a few things and lined them up next to the baby. Then inexplicably she told Soda to go heat some water and bring her a little dish of it. He did so, scurrying back.

We were all standing in a circle around her, looking on and she glanced up, her gray eyes sparkling. "Oh, no, this is a hands on lesson, not a demonstration." She pointed her finger at Steve. "This your responsibility, young man, like Two-Bit said?"

He nodded. "Seems that way."

With an eloquently raised eyebrow, she swiveled her finger down to indicate that he should join her on the floor. "Then this is your responsibility too."

Once Steve was down, we all sat too, like eager students. Mrs. Mathews gestured for Steve to start. He stared stupidly.

"Lord, boy, use your head. You gotta undress the poor little thing."

Between them they got the baby stripped to his diaper and beyond. He kicked his legs furiously, turning purple in the face. Soda snickered, making a ridiculous and fairly dirty comment about the proportions of the baby's junk and whether or not he took after Steve in that respect.

Mrs. Mathews clipped him around the head. "You want me to talk about your weenie, Sodapop Patrick? 'Cause I changed your diaper more'n once..."

Soda shut his mouth quick.

She ran out of patience with Steve being all fingers and thumbs and ended up doing most of it herself, to be honest, but we all watched intently. She was so quick, though, I wasn't exactly sure how it all fit.

"Lemme say, you are lucky this child came with a few of these disposable things. You're gonna run out pretty quick though. If you use one of these," a different square of cloth was held up, "y'all take care with the pins, y'hear?" _Pins?_

Jay was quieter now, but not what you could describe as happy.

"Right, next he's gonna need feeding."

We followed her to the kitchen and learned about formula, bottles and heating them, in quick short sentences as she issued instructions. Canned Carnation milk and water was another option, she explained. And there was a packet of Gerber's that she handed to me and told me to read the instructions for mixing it up.

"Jeez, there's a lot to know," Two-Bit muttered. His mother caught the words and nodded solemnly.

"You ain't even scratched the surface...And this, boys, is why we use self restraint and/or Trojans. Understood?" She eyed them, one by one. Two-Bit rolled his eyes, I figured this wasn't the first time he'd heard her say that. The Curtis boys suddenly found their feet very interesting and Steve...

Steve blushed. He all but squirmed with embarrassment and definitely got a little pink in the cheeks.

She turned to me. "Don't think I ain't including you, missy."

I'd met her before, once or twice when I was hanging out with Two-Bit. Their house was crazy messy but welcoming, and so was she, when she was there. I didn't know why I was on the end of the lecture too.

"It ain't my baby!" I squeaked.

"Yeah?" she said. "Well, you're cozy with this shiny new daddy, so I'm reminding you to be extra careful, since he obviously ain't."

Steve headed for the door, mumbling that he needed a smoke.

"What about your baby?" Mrs. Mathews demanded, in a tone that took no prisoners. "You ain't just walking away, who's gonna look after him, you go outside?"

"Well, er, everyone, I guess." Steve waved his hand at all of us.

"Nope. No guessing. You have a kid, you gotta _know_, exactly, every second of every day. This ain't no game."

Steve swallowed.

"I will. I'll look after the baby." I said, getting defensive on his behalf. He shot me a half smile and ducked outside, Soda hard on his heels. I picked Jay up, already feeling that I was handling him more confidently now that I'd seen how Two-Bit's mom moved him about and he didn't break.

"Sweetie, you be careful now. You don't wanna get saddled with this. I know what men are, when it comes to shirking responsibility..."

Two-Bit twitched.

"Mrs. Mathews," I started, but she interrupted, reminding me she'd told me before to call her 'Maggie'. "_Maggie_. Steve ain't saddling me with anything. He only just got told about this baby, he's gotta take some time to work out what the hell is going on." Jay was whimpering again, wriggling hard in my arms.

"Talking of 'working' it out," she said, real calm. "What's happening tomorrow? Who's taking off the day to babysit?"

I bit my lip. We hadn't thought any of this through. She sighed.

"That's what I'm talking about. Takes considerable longer to raise a baby than it does to make one." She went into the kitchen and came back with the bottle she'd made up. She handed it to me and showed me how to test if it was too hot and then how to hold him so he wouldn't choke, nor suck in air.

His little hand closed on my fingers, where I was holding the bottle, as if he was guiding me, or keeping me there, and his eyes locked onto mine.

"Wow. He's hungry." Two-Bit whistled as Jay guzzled the milk down. "No wonder he was hacked with us."

I couldn't look up to comment, because I didn't want to break that gaze. It was like Jay was fixed on me, like I was responsible for what he needed and he damn well knew it.

"Hallelujah, is it finally quiet?" Darry appeared in the doorway. "Oh, hey, Maggie."

"You sloped off, did ya?" she chuckled.

"Listen, I told 'em to call the authorities, they can't –" He was cut off by her furious glare. Her response was equally sharp:

"Junior, you should be ashamed of yourself. No child deserves to be thrown away. Your ma would have something to say about that, and no mistake."

Steve came back in, to catch the end of that.

"I ain't turning him over to the state. If he's mine, then I'm keeping him." I heard the 'if' and wondered about it. Steve watched me with Jay, and chewed his lip thoughtfully.

"Where's he going to sleep?" Pony came up with another thing we hadn't considered. We didn't have a crib or anything.

"Make a little bed with a blanket in a drawer," Maggie said. "Hell, he won't know no different, this 'un didn't when he came into the world." She pointed at Two-Bit, who grinned at the idea. "Put it next to your bed and then you won't have far to go in the night...You do know he's gonna wake you up in the night? 'less you're very lucky."

Somehow, I didn't think we were going to be that lucky.

"Well, you can't stay here," said Darry, firmly. "We got work and school in the morning."

Steve threw his shoulders back, his jaw set. "He's coming home with me, you don't gotta worry."

xxXxx

Back at Steve's house, I wondered if his confidence would hold. The car ride had sent Jay to sleep and I held him while Steve emptied a drawer from his dresser and lined it with a blanket. We put the baby in and he did look like he was in a little crib. He snuffled a little but stayed sleeping.

Steve sank down on the floor, leaning back against his bed and covered his face with his hands. When he looked up again, he had a real sick expression.

"I think she was telling the truth," he said quietly. "I did...go with her and I never used anything, we were so loaded. It was just one night, but..._shit_. I think it's true. I did this."

I sat on the bed and he leaned against me, sighing. "I'm so sorry, babe. I never... I mean, we was broken up and I was out of it and..."

It was kind of a horrible time to think about, the time when we split up. I'd even seen him out with her, with Becky, and it had hurt a lot right then. But I'd got with Buzz as a result, and we'd been together for far longer than one night, so Steve didn't have the monopoly on getting with someone else and I didn't have any right to be pissed about it, was one way of looking at it.

And it was impossible to be pissed at that little sleeping bundle in front of us, he was too damn cute.

All I needed to do was to get my head around the fact that Steve's first child was never going to be mine. That had blown up a fair few ideas I had about the future.

"There's some blood test, ain't there? I could get that done, to be sure..." Steve was studying Jay as he said it. I shrugged. It seemed a little redundant, because there was a real resemblance to him in that little face.

"What are we going to do tomorrow? About work?" I started undressing for bed.

Steve frowned. "What time can you get done? If one of us takes off the morning and then we switch..." Well, that would work, short term, but not for two weeks. I waited for him to use the bathroom then went to clean my teeth.

I wondered, as I looked at the few items I kept there, if this was the decision maker as far as my moving in went. Because looking after a baby was a twenty four seven job. I'd known that, even without Maggie Mathews's dire warnings. Something was going to have to be worked out.

We climbed into bed and cuddled up.

"You know you are far out, right?" Steve said, touching my face. "I think plenty of girls would've gone ape, some other chick turning up with their boyfriend's kid."

"Well, it ain't like I didn't know you got with her back then. You weren't cheatin'." I felt a bit guilty, because I was maybe more freaked than I was letting on. I also couldn't help remembering the time when we'd taken a chance ourselves – and I _had_ cheated, on Buzz, to do that. Holy Christ, Becky must have been pregnant already, when that happened...my mind whirled.

"Yeah, but still." He kissed me. "You are tuff enough." The kiss was just building into something when Jay squawked. We froze. He started the hiccoughing breaths that we already knew preceded his yelling.

"Pacifier!" I hissed. "Didn't Maggie say something about a pacifier?" And that was when we realized we'd left the bag in the Chevy.

Steve dragged his jeans back on and rushed outside, cussing quietly when he came back in, frozen. The pacifier worked and he climbed back into bed. But we didn't dare do anything, we just lay there, trying not to make any noise that might wake up Jay.

xxXxx

I never had persuaded Steve that he needed an alarm clock. But even his ability to wake up on time was superfluous that first morning. It was barely light.

"Shit!" was Steve's first word, as the crying yanked both of us out of a deep sleep. He sat up, blinking, like he wasn't sure what was going on.

"What time...?" I managed. It was a couple of minutes after five a.m. I groaned.

Steve looked down at the drawer-crib. "He's pissed about something." He reached for the shrieking baby and put him up in the bed between us. "What's up, little man?" he asked perfectly reasonably. Jay bawled, batting his fists at the air. Steve yawned and rubbed his face. "Is he hungry, you think?"

"How the hell do I know?" I said, probably more sharply than I should have. I am not what you might call a morning person, at the best of times.

"Bottle or diaper? Gotta be one of those."

Did it? There could have been a hundred things we didn't know about yet, that made babies cry. I felt horribly out of my depth. I volunteered to go heat up a bottle, like Maggie showed us. Mainly because it got me away from the noise.

As I was doing so - and brewing coffee at the same time, because whatever the baby wanted, I knew for sure that coffee was what we needed - a yell of horror from the bedroom made me hurry back through.

Steve had attempted to undress Jay and tackle his diaper, by the look of things. And it wasn't just wet.

"Jesus Christ! Open the window, babe," Steve croaked, trying not to breath. I did so and then ran back to the kitchen to rescue the bottle.

When I got back, Steve had made a decent attempt at cleaning up the offending mess, because Jay was lying there naked and reasonably clean looking.

Steve shuddered at the dirty diaper he'd rolled into a ball. "Is that normal?" he asked. To the air, I hoped, because I wasn't sure how many more times I could tell him I knew nothing about babies without clocking him one. Whatever he had done seemed to have worked, because Jay was no longer yelling. He lay, looking up at Steve curiously, his eyes following Steve's every movement.

And then he peed in Steve's face.

I slapped my hand to my mouth, to stifle a giggle. Steve shoved a cloth diaper over Jay with both hands, like when you try to stop a faucet gushing.

"Holy fuck! He did that on purpose!"

Jay chortled. He actually grinned at Steve.

"Steve, you have to stop cussing around the baby," I said, biting my lip to keep a straight face. Steve shook his head, climbing to his feet.

"Let him piss on you, see what _you_ say," he muttered as he left the room to wash up.

Sitting by Jay, I put a fresh diaper on him, trying to remember everything Maggie had said. We only had one more disposable in the bag. There were a couple of cloth ones, not counting the one that was now soaked because Steve had grabbed it in defense. I realized the cloth under Jay was wet too. And the little pants he'd had on. Hell, should we have changed him into pajamas? Everything babies wore looked liked pj's, so how would we know?

Either way, I guessed there was a deal of laundry with babies. I picked him up and tossed the wet stuff towards the door. He wobbled his head to look at me, close up, one of his hands colliding with my face.

"I hope you're gonna survive this, kid," I told him, "'cause we don't know what the hell we're doing."

"Now who's cussing around the kid?" Steve appeared. He sat on the bed with his back to the wall and beckoned me closer. "Lemme do that." I gave him Jay and then the bottle, showed him how to check it wasn't too hot, like Maggie had showed me.

Daydreams are weird. When you imagine things, the picture is kind of fuzzy - not like when the TV snows up, but because you don't have the real deal in front of you; you see the ideal bedroom, in the ideal house maybe, but not that it still has to be vacuumed and dusted. You see a beautiful white dress and flowers, not the lists of who's sitting where and how much the reception costs.

And, maybe, you imagine the guy you love with a kid, throwing a baseball, holding onto a bike for the first time without training wheels. Not changing dirty diapers and wiping pee off his face. Because only seeing the fuzzy keeps it perfect.

But, if you imagine him, in the early morning light, sitting in his boxers, holding a half naked baby as it drinks its milk and both of them are looking at each other with the same eyes, like there's no one else in the world? Then? Oh, _then_, you get it exactly right.

* * *

**A/N (again!): Anyone who is familiar with babies these days, and is cringing at some of the details - I swear, babies back then were weaned much earlier, they were also fed watered Carnation evaporated milk. And disposable diapers existed, but were _expensive!_**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Ah, Josefin - all the right questions... :) Panda Bear - I agree, Becky is a terrible mother! Mariah - me too!**

* * *

I felt like it should be lunchtime and it was still only just after seven. Jay had fallen back asleep, but there was no way we could. I was getting another round of coffee underway, while Steve showered, when a dramatic cough from the back door made me look around.

"I may never be able to go to work again," Soda said, with raised eyebrows, as he let himself in. "You know that's official uniform, right? I feel like you made it _dirty_."

I was wearing Steve's DX shirt. Just Steve's DX shirt. And underwear, I ain't a complete skank.

"Shut your trap," I said with a grin, as he leaned on the edge of the table, studying me. "You seen me in skirts this short."

"Uh, no, don't believe I have. Pretty sure I woulda remembered...whoa!" I freaked him out by reaching up for a mug, to pour him some coffee too. Soda clapped his hand over his eyes. "Not looking. Not looking," he muttered, as Steve came in.

"Glad to hear it," Steve grunted. He shot me a look that definitely suggested I should go get dressed. I handed him a coffee and breezed out of the kitchen. There was a yelp from Soda.

"What?" I heard him object.

"You forgot to 'not look'," Steve said calmly.

"I'm only human."

"Not around my girl, you're not."

When I was dressed, I enlisted Soda's help in persuading Steve to call Carol. I knew we were going to need all the help we could get; neither of us was confident to go it alone that first day, despite Steve's plan for us to split the time.

Soda wanted to stay too, but someone had to be at the DX and he offered to tell their boss that Steve needed some personal time – he was owed it, since he had hardly taken any time when Eddie was ill and none at all after he died, apart from the day of the funeral, insisting that it was better if he kept going. Personally, I thought that keeping busy was just a way to not think about things, but I'd had no chance of changing his mind.

After she extracted a promise that I would tell her all the details later, Marian indulged me too. Luckily it was a quiet time at work and I wasn't leaving her in the lurch.

Carol's response to Steve's news was to tell him that she was getting right in the car. We waited for her nervously.

This wasn't the first time she'd been back to the house on East Marshall, because she'd been by to see Steve since Eddie died, but it never seemed to get much easier for her. I watched from the window as she steeled herself, taking a few moments by the car to gather up her nerve. Walt held her hand on the way to the door.

"Hello, sweetheart." Carol hugged Steve and then with a soft, "Oh!" she stopped in front of me. Jay stared back at her, his eyes wide. She smiled and held out her arms and he went to her quite happily. He didn't seem to care who held him. She walked around a little, talking to him about what a real good little boy he was, the usual kind of nonsense people talk to babies.

I beetled out to the kitchen to fetch drinks. I even found a tray. I was never going to compete with her, on the 'hostess with the mostest' front, but I didn't want her to think Steve lived uncivilized. They were talking by the time I went back.

"Nah, it wasn't like that. Just a one night stand, is all," Steve was saying.

Carol took a little breath in, clicked her tongue on her teeth. "Oh, _Steven_."

"Can I see the birth certificate?" Walt asked. Steve shrugged.

After they absorbed what there was of the story to tell, Walt began talking to Steve about legalities. There weren't many. As an unmarried father, he had no rights at all. I'd known it was bull when Becky said the adoption society were interested in Steve's opinion. To be honest, I wasn't even convinced she'd gone to them. Maybe it just occurred to her to palm Jay off on Steve.

Steve, being Steve, didn't care about either her motivation or his rights, but had various plans of his own that he began to list.

I realized, from a few comments that I heard Walt make, that his advice was based on lawyer's consultations, from the time when he and Carol had got married and he had investigated her getting Steve back; investigated what it would take for him to adopt Steve. Like Eddie would ever have let that happen.

Still, it was a freaky thing to consider, but Carol's experience of losing Steve might turn out to be useful now.

Carol, having laid Jay down on the blanket we were using for him, asked me to go with her to the car.

"How do you feel about all this?" She seemed genuinely concerned. I told her how things stood, from my point of view. That I loved Steve and supported whatever he wanted to do. That Becky wasn't someone I would trust with a dog, never mind a baby, based on the way she'd been when she showed up at the DX. Carol shook her head.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed in Steve. This is far from ideal. Were you two an item when he...?"

I told her no. I was pretty mad that she would think that about Steve. Carol bit her lip.

"Sorry. It's just, you know, men do have a wandering eye on occasion. I mean,_ some_ men. I mean...in _some _circumstances..."

Oh. _Eddie cheated on her_. I saw it, clear as day. When she was in the hospital? Maybe he thought she wasn't coming back? When she was home? Struggling with her depression? Before they even had Steve? None of the situations I imagined were excusable.

"Well, it wasn't like that. Steve and I weren't together when it happened. But we are now, and if he needs me, to get through this, then I'm here." I hoped I sounded more confident than I actually was. We were floundering, I knew that.

Carol smiled at me. "Well, I'm glad he has you. And," she popped the trunk on their station wagon, "... I'm glad I'm a bit of a pack rat." Her smile grew broader as I took in the stuff she'd brought. She pulled a cardboard box towards her and reached inside. "Look. This was Scott's. I always had him in blue and Jamie in red, to keep track of them." She handed me a tiny little sweater, with a blue truck stitched on the front. It looked too big for Jay, but still...

Carol picked up the box. "Come on, let's see what else there is."

And so, that night, Jay got to leave the drawer and sleep in a little folding 'travel crib' thing, on a proper mattress. In clean pajamas. I'd had another lesson in folding diapers – and so had Steve – and we'd both been overwhelmed by advice. Carol even offered to stay over, which, considering how she felt about the house, was pretty damn amazing.

She did real good at pretending she had confidence in us. Although she had been kind of freaked out when Two-Bit showed up after work. He said hello calm and polite enough, but then he swooped on Jay, grabbing him out of my arms.

"Well, hey now, little man, little Jay-bird, you come tell your Uncle Two-Bit all about it." He held Jay up like an airplane, flying him around, with accompanying noises.

"Oh, my!" Carol paled. "He's a little young for that." Her arms went out defensively towards them.

Two-Bit held Jay a little more sensibly. "Understood," he said, seriously. And immediately blew a raspberry on Jay's stomach, making him giggle. Carol's face remained worried. She cheered up some, when Two-Bit produced a bag with jars of baby food in and said his mom had told him to bring them over. Since they were in a proper grocery store bag I was pretty sure he had actually paid for them too.

Soda and Joanne were next to show up and I began to appreciate what a novelty having a baby around was. Soda was super polite to Carol. They'd met again, since the disastrous party at her house, but Soda still felt bad about what had happened on Steve's birthday. I noticed that he was very careful how he spoke around Carol and Walt.

"Pony's comin' by later, hope that's okay," he said to Steve and me. I felt like he asked both of us, like it was _our _house. I told him it was fine by me, but there wasn't much in the house to feed everyone with, apart from popcorn.

"Well, we could treat," Carol said brightly, reaching for her wallet. She looked around with a smile. "Boys, you can go for takeout. What would everyone like?"

I could practically see the hairs rising on the back of Steve's neck. I made a swift decision.

"Thank you, that's very kind," I said, telling Two-Bit to go for pizza, as I discreetly dragged Steve out of the room.

"I don't want her throwin' her cash around..." he started, but I shook my head.

"Baby, we are gonna need help here. We already did. I don't know about you, but it scares the shit out of me, looking after a kid. We're gonna need your mom, my mom, hell, we may very well need Two-Bit's mom again. Carol springing for pizza ain't no big deal. Don't you think about pissing her off."

He nodded reluctantly. "I just..."

"I know." I cuddled into him. "But she's been great, look at all that stuff she brought. And she was real sweet with Jay. I half figured she'd disown you, y'know."

We walked back in the room as Two-Bit and Soda were leaving. Soda passed the baby to Steve.

"Here y'go, Daddy." He winked. And for some reason, although that wasn't the first time someone had said that word, Steve flinched and it struck home to him, I could see that. Whatever his original motivation had been - to get one over on Becky, to assert his place just because he could - something had changed. Something deep inside him had changed.

He might still get one, but Steve didn't need a blood test to tell him how he felt about Jay.

xxXxx

The guys picked up Pony on their way back to the house and Soda introduced him to Carol and Walt. Pony was shy with them, which I thought was a little strange, because lately he'd been holding his own, even against Steve's sarcastic comments.

He smiled politely at Carol's comment on his name.

"_Mom_." Steve rolled his eyes.

"What? I simply said I never did meet anyone with that name before. Just the same as Sodapop." She smiled at the both of them. "Do you have any other brothers or sisters?"

"Just one." Soda kept a straight face, stringing out the inevitable next question. She asked. And then Carol did look a little disappointed when she found out Darry wasn't as exotic as the other two. "He's the boring one," Soda confirmed with a grin.

"I'mma tell him you said that." Nobody took Two-Bit's threat seriously.

Pony was still looking mostly at the carpet, but by now I'd realized it wasn't Carol he was acting nervous around. While she and Jo were looking over some of the baby things and the guys were squabbling over the remaining pizza, I watched as Pony went over to Walt.

"Uh, I was wondering, sir, if this..." He dug in his book bag - I had thought it weird that he had the bag with him, although with Pony you never knew what he considered a sensible time for reading_. _

_I remembered one time we got to their pad and found him in front of the TV, with a book open. Soda went to change the station and Pony squawked that he was watching._

"_Thought you was reading," Soda said, confused._

"_I'm doin' both! They changed some of the movie from the book, so I'm filling the parts they missed," Pony said, like it was a perfectly reasonable thing to do. _

Now he stood awkwardly in front of Walt, producing a thin book with a tattered plastic cover.

"...I was wondering if this is yours?" he choked out.

"Where on earth did you find that?" Walt was genuinely surprised.

"In the school library. Evie told me once that you wrote a book and when I found out your name I thought I might have read it..." Pony shrugged, still embarrassed.

Walt was looking at the date stamps on the library ticket inside the book. He laughed. "Well, I guess it's been hidden on a shelf somewhere, there's a fair old gap of years before it started up being issued again. Still, it's been regular over the last year, by the look of it. Four people tried it, I guess."

Pony went a little pink. "Oh. Uh, that was me, sir."

"You borrowed my book four times?"

"It's the story about the tree. I just get to thinking about it, an' I have to read it again, to get to the part about the ice sliding over the end of the branches just right, an' the part about..."

I watched as Walt's expression changed from polite interest to real pleasure that Ponyboy enjoyed the story so much. And Pony didn't sound shy anymore; he took the book back and rifled through the pages, finding the parts he wanted to discuss and asking question after question.

As I turned away, I caught Carol's eye and she smiled at me, then looked back at Walt with pride.

Jay was starting to fuss.

"He's hungry, right?" Jo said and Carol nodded.

"How can you tell?" It frustrated me, that it seemed so obvious to them. Jo shrugged.

"My brother's kids did that." She pointed at Jay who was battering his own mouth, it looked like, as he twisted in Carol's arms. "And it sounds different."

"Sounds like he's been stepped on every time he shouts," Two-Bit joined in, unhelpfully.

Carol shook her head, talking to me. "It does sound different. You'll learn. You want to heat up one of those bottles or do you want me to do it?"

I went into the kitchen. I tried to remember what time Jay had his last bottle. Carol had talked about 'routine' and keeping regular times, which Maggie Mathews hadn't mentioned at all. I'd always assumed mealtimes were mealtimes, even if babies added in extra dinner in the night, or whatever. Now I was wondering if he should eat at different times to us, because how could you feed a baby his bottle if you were trying to eat your own food?

I checked the milk wasn't too hot, as Carol came up behind me and immediately asked if I'd checked whether the milk wasn't too hot. I bit my tongue. I was new to this, but I wasn't an idiot.

When we got back, Two-Bit was walking up and down with Jay and declaring that he was going to feed him the bottle. Soda piped up that Two-Bit had already played with Jay and he wanted a go.

Carol's face went real frowny. "This baby is not a toy," she said sharply. Both of the guys shut up abruptly. Jay was quieter than he had been, which was weird seeing as how he was supposedly so hungry.

Then Two-Bit turned around and we saw that Jay was gnawing on a piece of pizza crust that he held in his little fist.

"Who gave him that?" Carol demanded.

"He likes it," Two-Bit said defensively. "It's just bread. My ma said they eat bread. Like toast and those cookie things they chew on."

Chewing was about all that was going on, the pizza crust was turning pretty soggy. Carol insisted on taking Jay and feeding him the bottle herself. Two-Bit shrugged and scooped up his smokes, heading out back. I followed. There were enough people in that front room.

It was cold out. I bummed a drag of Two-Bit's weed. "You okay?" I asked him. "Don't be hacked that Carol was snippy, I think you're great with the kid. You're gonna be a good dad."

He snorted. "Yeah? Might need to persuade some chick of that first."

"Aw, we'll find you a girl," I said with a smile, aware that he hadn't seen anyone much lately. Since Kathy. "You can't have gone through all the blondes in town."

He glanced away for a second, smiling to himself, then grinned at me. "Sure, I'll change my name to 'Sodapop Curtis' and the chicks'll be throwing themselves at me."

"He ain't magic," I protested. "Ain't like he's the only one ever scored, out of y'all."

Two-Bit snorted. "You think it was easy, cruising for chicks with Soda around? You think any of the rest of us got a look in? You can't imagine..."

"Are you kidding?" I interrupted. "I was the 'bring a friend' every time I went out with Sandy. You think any guy ever looked past her blonde hair and tits, to see me?" I looked down at my chest for emphasis.

"Tink, you are perfectly proportioned," he said gallantly, adding quickly, with a look over his shoulder towards the house, "and never tell your sweet tempered boyfriend I said that."

"And you are...near enough normal looking that I'm sure we can find some girl desperate enough..." I broke off as he jabbed me in the ribs. When I'd finished squealing and swatting him away, he ground out his cigarette, smiling lazily.

"You worry too much. I ain't doin' so bad."

"Really? Who?" He hadn't mentioned any particular dates lately. But he'd always done his own thing, disappeared for the odd few hours here and there, so we might not have noticed.

He shrugged. "No one in particular. I just mean you don't gotta worry." And that was all I got out of him. I filed the information away, though, for future investigation.


	5. Chapter 5

The thing about knowing what's the right thing to do, like me telling Steve to keep Carol onside, is that sometimes you have to take your own advice. For me, that time came when Steve went by the DX to beg for some more vacation days. I felt out of my depth immediately.

I walked over to my house with the stroller. Jay fell asleep by the time I'd reached the end of Steve's street. Honestly, I could have done with a nap myself; he'd been awake twice in the night and once we ran out of the Holy Trinity of ideas - pacifier, diaper, bottle - the only thing that we had left to do was to walk around the house with him until he quietened down again.

The second Steve drove away, Jay started up again. I hit the sidewalk as an alternative to walking a groove in the carpet. Plus I needed to let Ma know what was going on.

It was only when I was almost back home that I suddenly wondered if this was going to piss off Sarah. Like, if I would somehow be stealing her thunder, having a baby before her, even if it wasn't mine. _I wish you were mine_, I thought, looking at Jay. _Things would be a lot simpler, if you were mine._

Maybe it wouldn't be an issue; Sarah was certainly different this time around. I never knew what exactly had gone down between her and Tony after the whole Ricky deal. Her being so afraid that he had committed murder must have got them talking. And presumably more than talking, since she was now about four months pregnant and expecting her baby in June.

I didn't think she looked very pregnant yet, although she insisted on wearing these godawful tent dresses already and if puking was any evidence to go on, it was all very, very real. She was only making it into work about every other afternoon and Tony was nagging her to give up entirely.

Since Sarah passed some magic 'safe' line on the calendar, Ma was knitting. Like, all the time. I never even knew such skinny needles existed – she used to make me sweaters when I was younger, but these itty bitty baby clothes were something else. Sarah was started on a blanket, when she didn't have her head down the toilet.

I'd been intending on _buying_ something for the baby to wear, something that looked like a real piece of clothing for a real person. Now, having had to wash some of Jay's stuff, I was even more of the opinion that modern stuff was way cooler than hand knitted. Between spit ups and diaper leaks, I was definitely in favor of easy-wash fabrics.

I sighed when I got to the house. I never even thought about porch steps before, not at any of our houses. Now I felt like I could draw you up a list of all the differences; Steve's stoop was wider and the steps were shallower, which meant they were just wide enough for the stroller wheels. My house had one more step and they were steeper. I backed the stroller up, bumping Jay up and inside, waking him up in the process.

I reckon it was a full ten minutes before I was able to get the story out, because Ma was all over Jay and barely listened to a word I said.

Sarah appeared, yawning, as I got the details out. Apart from puking, the main symptom of pregnancy seemed to be sleeping sickness. She caught up quick. And although she wasn't pissed in the way I'd anticipated, she was less than enthusiastic.

"You can't just take on some stranger's child!" she objected.

"He's Steve's child too."

"How can you be sure?"

I told her to look at Jay again. "You should be so lucky, if your baby looks as much like Tony as this kid looks like Steve."

Jay, meanwhile, was revving up to a full on bawl. I guessed 'diaper' from the way he was wriggling and I was pleased with myself to find out that I was right, even if I wasn't that thrilled with what it meant.

I took him into the bathroom where I would have soap and water to hand. I was learning.

Ma watched over my shoulder. She asked what I thought I was doing, as I folded the fresh diaper and then she proceeded to show me a completely different way of doing it. That made three for three, as far the mom's we'd asked went; every single one had directly opposing advice.

I wondered if there was any way in hell Steve and I would ever get everything right.

xxXxx

"_Mr Randle, you have no legal rights in this case. Unwed fathers simply do not have the right to custody. Period."_

I don't know why it sounded worse to hear that this time. It was what Darry had said, what Walt had said, what we'd always known, if we were being completely honest. I guess hearing it from the lawyer who was supposed to be on Steve's side was what made it sound so horrible.

Steve's lawyer, if such a thing existed, was supposed to be the one that Eddie had used, the one he'd called when Steve had been arrested and who had let Eddie lie when he confessed to murder. Steve didn't like him much, so he'd gone to ask Darry what had happened when he became legal guardian for Soda and Pony, to see if they needed an attorney.

Darry said no. Said his folks had put him down as guardian in their will, when he turned eighteen, never expecting it to be something that really happened, and the State had been happy to accept that, after a report from a social worker. He met with a judge at the courthouse, signed some stuff, but he hadn't needed a lawyer.

"They still keep checking up on you, though?" I blurted, from where I was rocking the stroller to try and keep Jay asleep.

He shrugged. "Not so much anymore, since I passed up twenty one, but yeah, they stick their noses in from time to time. Will do, I guess, 'til Pony hits eighteen. Which is a crock, since he'll be in college by then."

I wondered about his mom and dad. Wondered how they'd known to write it up, to have some plan for their kids in case they weren't around. Did you just get smart about that kind of thing, if you had kids? Did you just worry all the time, about stuff that might never happen? Although, of course, in their case, it did.

Maybe you did. Steve had switched into some kind of hyper determined mode, focused on Jay and what it would take to keep him in his life.

Darry was still talking about what happened, and also about what happened when Pony had to go to the hearing for the Soc's death. "Our social worker had an attorney on standby, in case the hearing went against Pony. I got his card somewhere. She said he'd helped her out on a few cases. But I don't think it'll get you anywhere."

Steve actually looked quite hurt. "Man, I thought you of all people would understand."

"Because of Soda an' Pony? That ain't the same, Steve. It ain't the same at all. Man, I'm telling you an' I hope you're hearing me, it is _freaking heavy_, to be responsible for someone else. And at least Soda and Pony could dress and feed themselves. I can't even begin to get my head around what you'll need to do for such a little kid –"

"What if they'd said 'no' to you?" Steve cut across him. "What if they said to you, 'Sorry, you gotta let Pony go live in a boys' home. He'll be better off.' Are you tellin' me you'd have stood there an' let 'em? 'Cause I don't buy that."

Darry sighed. "You know I wouldn't. But Pony wasn't a baby. How many times I gotta say it? It. Ain't. The. Same."

"It fucking is to me! Family is family, don't matter how old he is. He's my kid!" Steve clenched his fists in frustration. Jay murmured at the raised voice, but didn't wake.

"Steve. I hear you." Darry held up his hand in a gesture of peace. "I will give you the lawyer's name. But I just think you're gonna pay him to tell you the same as what I'm saying."

But, pay him he did. Steve made an appointment and insisted that I went with him. I thought he meant for the ride, to wait with him, but when the lawyer was ready for him he motioned for me to bring the stroller inside the office too.

I pulled a face to show I didn't know if I should, but Steve hissed at me:

"I wanna show him this ain't just a name on a bit of paper."

It was maybe a little scruffier than I had expected a lawyer's office to be, but the lady out front was pleasant and the lawyer himself looked kind, if a bit distracted. He was in rolled up shirt sleeves and his desk was a mountain of files and papers. Even the floor had piles of the stuff all around.

Steve explained exactly what had happened and why we'd come to him. Mr Hollings chewed his lip as he listened and agreed that he did work on custody cases and the like. He knew plenty about the Department of Public Welfare and social workers and it sounded like he knew how to get around them too.

And then he said that Steve had no rights.

"How can that be? She put his name on the birth certificate!" I was so mad that I couldn't keep quiet any longer. "If she was suing him for child support, wouldn't her lawyer be using that as evidence?"

Mr Hollings smiled, not too patronizing, but obviously humoring me. "Not '_evidence_', as you call it, but it is a small point in our favor." I heard the 'our' and relaxed a fraction. Maybe he was on Steve's side after all.

"What else?" I demanded.

"I'm sorry?"

"What else would be a 'small point in our favor'? Because if we get a bunch of small points, don't it add up to a whole lot?" It seemed obvious to me.

"She left him with me. That's one, for a start," Steve growled.

The lawyer nodded. "That is a start."

"And she was living in a squat, with some gang of guys." I offered the information eagerly. He nodded.

"Where? And where exactly is she now?"

It wasn't so helpful that we couldn't answer these questions. He advised us to find out as much as we could, when she came back.

"What if she don't?" Steve asked.

"We still need to tread carefully."

"Should I get a blood test done?"

Mr Hollings looked at the birth certificate again. "Do you know your blood type, Mr. Randle?"

Steve told him he was Type A. Mr Hollings gave a little shrug.

"Well, so is the baby's according to this. But, that just eliminates the 60 percent of men who aren't Type A. We can narrow it down a little more, if we get a further RH test, but it still isn't conclusive. And unfortunately, without the mother's consent, you can't have the baby's blood drawn anyway..."

I had a bad feeling all of a sudden. "What would happen if Jay was sick?" I asked. "If Steve had to take him to the hospital?"

Mr. Hollings started scribbling on a pad. "That's the first thing I'm going to draw up, a document giving the mother's consent to Mr. Randle's consent, if you see what I mean. You need to get her to sign that she acknowledges he has parental responsibility."

If she came back.

"Can't I just sign the birth certificate now?" Steve wanted to know.

"No. But I can put an affidavit forward to the court, for parental acknowledgement. It could take some time though."

"And what will I get out of this?" Steve leaned forwards, his tone hard. "Will this get me, like, weekends and every other Christmas? What?"

Mr. Hollings looked surprised. "What exactly do you want out of this?"

"I want Jay. Full time. I want custody." His eyes were on Jay as he said it.

I stared at Steve. That was the first time he'd said that out loud. Mr. Hollings exhaled slowly.

"We need to do a fair bit of work then, to make that happen. Unless the mother is happy with that outcome. Do you have any reason to think she might agree?"

Both of us shrugged. It wasn't something I could imagine, but then she had left Jay at the DX without a backward glance.

"What if I just keep him?" Steve mused. "If she comes back. What if I just say 'no' to her?"

"Absolutely not. You could be charged with kidnapping. You _would_ be charged with kidnapping. Under no circumstance, do you hear me?" Mr. Hollings got quite loud. "Let me work on this the legal way."

"She don't deserve him," I blurted. "She didn't even say goodbye, she just left him. She was happy to leave him."

Steve swallowed. He'd been working up to this and it was tough for him, because of Carol, because of everything that had gone on between his own parents, over him. "Can you have her declared 'unfit'?" he asked. "That would mean she can't keep Jay, right?" He looked at Mr. Hollings, who nodded slowly.

"True. If we can prove she is unfit as a mother, then that's good in one respect. But the state will usually take an illegitimate child into its own care, if it decides the mother is unfit. This is why I said we need to tread carefully."

"Make me seem the fit parent. Make me the better option. I got a house. I got a job. Don't that count for anything?" Steve sounded decisive, strong. I hoped the lawyer was as impressed as I was.

Mr Hollings picked up his pen. "Let's see, shall we?"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hi Jas, welcome on board ;)**

* * *

It was working. It was tough and I felt like I needed a calendar open all the time to remember where Jay was and where I was supposed to be, but we were doing it.

Steve swapped some shifts around, which sucked in one way, because it meant he worked the late nights and Sundays again, which he hadn't since he went full time. But it also meant that he was around most mornings, to take care of Jay, while I went to work. Marian let me cut back a day – losing the money was okay, I wasn't going to miss it too much, I told myself. The rest of the week, afternoons, Steve took Jay over to Ma before he went to the DX and I got home as quick as I could. Sarah was around too and even she couldn't help but be charmed by Jay. He was one hell of a cute kid.

Everyone was pretty awesome, to be honest. Maggie Mathews worked real late nights, so she was never up much before midday, but she took Jay for an afternoon when Ma wasn't well and best of all, she kind of supervised what we bought in the way of diapers and baby food, walking me around aisles in grocery stores that I had never paid any attention to before. Even Two-Bit took the odd half day off work when Steve was needed at the workshop and Soda and Jo helped where they could – Soda tried for opposite shifts to Steve for the first time ever and babysat, Jo got off in time to pick me up from work, to save me waiting on the bus.

Carol came around with more stuff. The twins were introduced to the baby and seemed to take the fact that they had a nephew as just one more weird incident in their lives. After all, they'd coped with the sudden appearance of a big brother just fine.

I began to think that we could do this.

It wasn't all plain sailing; I'd be lying if I claimed that less sleep and more responsibility didn't have some effect. Steve and I were both guilty of snapping at each other and one time we had a huge fight in the middle of the night, both blaming each other for not remembering to buy baby food for the next day. It wasn't even an issue, because Jay would eat almost anything, as long as it was mashed up and he did just fine on a mess of banana and peanut butter instead of Gerber's cereal. Like I said though, we were tired and we yelled at each other until we suddenly noticed that Jay was fast asleep and we were wasting precious minutes when we could be sleeping too.

That first day seemed a long time ago because one week became two, became three. I knew that Steve had to be counting off the days but I didn't mention it.

He was so happy. It was like he'd been holding his breath since Eddie died and now he was filling his lungs with fresh air. Every day, when he got in, he went straight to Jay, whether he was awake or asleep, like he had to get his eyes on him to make him real again. And although I knew that he loved me, there was no comparison to the way he looked at Jay.

I wasn't jealous. Really I wasn't. Not of Jay. Like I said, it wasn't hard to fall for that kid. He was pretty good. Once we learned how to anticipate when he'd be hungry and once we got the whole diaper thing under control, Jay hardly ever bawled. He liked people, he liked to be able to see what was going on and he was happy to sit on someone's lap while we all ate, or watched TV or listened to music.

"Just like one of the gang," was Two-Bit's comment, one day when we were all in the Curtis front room listening to 'I Feel Free', on the new album Soda and Pony had just gone halves on.

"Because he is." Soda was sitting on the floor, leaning back on the couch, with Jay propped on the slope of his knees and Jay was grinning away and, it looked like, trying to copy Soda's head waving about in time to the music. Jo was trying to take a Polaroid of him smiling - she'd just gotten the camera for her birthday - but Soda's head kept getting in the way.

Steve and I were tucked on the armchair, kissing some, while we knew the others had their attention on Jay. So we were the first to notice two people come up to the porch and knock on the front door.

I felt my heart drop away as I recognized Becky. Standing next to her was a shorter girl with masses of dark hair. I knew who she was too.

Pony opened the door as I climbed to my feet so Steve could stand. He was tensed right up and wouldn't let me hold his hand. I saw Soda, out the corner of my eye, motion to Two-Bit to turn the record player down.

"Hi, Ponyboy." Angela Shepard managed to load the greeting with a suggestive tone. Pony grunted unenthusiastically.

"He here?" Becky said baldly to Steve, making Pony look around at him in surprise; he didn't know Becky of course, and probably thought she was just a friend of Angela's.

"Told ya they'd be here, didn't I?" Angela whispered to her, with a smug look. "Find one, find 'em all."

"Well?" Becky was still waiting.

"You said two weeks." Steve challenged.

"So, it ran over, so what? You had enough that quick?" She'd spotted Jay in Soda's lap, but she didn't go over to him.

"No," Steve told her, "that ain't it. I was happy to have him."

Becky smirked like she found that funny. "Where's his stuff?" She looked around.

"You're gonna take him back?" Two-Bit burst out. "Just like that?"

Soda stood up, holding onto Jay. "You're crazy," he told her bluntly.

"What's it to you? He's my kid, gimme." She held out her hands expectantly. Soda shook his head.

"This is a crock – " he started but Steve stopped him, saying Soda's name quietly but firmly. Soda still held onto Jay, stroking his head protectively. Becky's face clouded over.

Angela, on the other hand, smiled slowly. "Ooh, a girl could get ideas, Sodapop Curtis, seeing you so good with babies," she purred. "Think they'd have your hair color or mine?"

"Say what?" Jo jumped to her feet and stepped forwards, next to Soda. "You wanna back off, sugar."

Right as Angela opened her mouth to retort, Ponyboy offered up: "Thought it was gonna have your husband's hair color?" in a cold voice.

"Jealous? You had your chance." She raised her chin and stared him out.

This was all spiraling out of control and, mindful of what Mr. Hollings had said, I forced myself to move. I took Jay out of Soda's arms and smiled at Becky.

"You should probably come to Steve's house. There's loads of Jay's stuff there."

"Who the fuck is Jay?" she responded. I winced inside.

"_John_. I mean _John_. You'll want his clothes, spare diapers and stuff, right? You should come with us."

Becky reached out and took Jay from me. "This ain't his sweater," she said, as he blinked at her in surprise.

"Kid didn't exactly have a lot with him, when you left him. Got him some new stuff, that's allowed, ain't it?" Steve said through gritted teeth. She shrugged.

"We should probably go then." I was trying real hard to keep everyone calm, shooting looks all around, because Soda and Two-Bit looked like they had a lot to say and we needed to keep Becky sweet. I hated the idea, but Mr. Hollings had been clear; if Steve stood any chance of Jay being in his life regularly, he needed to not piss off Becky. She held all the cards, whether she realized that or not.

We made it to the Chevy, with a pause for Two-Bit to ruffle Jay's hair and Jo to retrieve his giraffe chew toy that she and Soda had bought and which he loved to gnaw on. Soda turned on his heel and walked into the kitchen.

At the car, Angela sighed dramatically. "I'm supposed to be goin' out. I was only gonna show you where to find 'em."

"You want a lift somewhere?" I offered, tightening my fingers on Steve's arm. He physically bit his lip to keep quiet as she accepted, and we drove her down to The Ribbon, where she ran off without a thank you.

It felt weird to me, to be in the car but not holding Jay. I kept sneaking glances at him on Becky's lap. "I didn't know you were friends with Angela," I said, hoping I sounded more convincingly conversational than I felt. Becky shrugged.

"Used to know her. Ran into her earlier and she said she knew where I could find y'all." Becky looked around with interest when we reached Steve's house. I offered her a drink and then dragged Steve with me to pack up some of Jay's stuff.

"Baby, remember you gotta keep her sweet," I urged him.

"She's gonna take him away," he said, like it was only just occurring to him.

"Yeah, for today. You know what Mr. Hollings said, you gotta let her. But Steve, baby, get her to sign the thing he gave you. The form." I couldn't believe he wasn't all over this. He'd been so focused on keeping Jay, but it was like he was frozen, now that Becky had shown up again.

I filled a grocery sack with clean diapers, because Jay's new clothes had already taken up most of the bag he'd arrived with.

"We can drive you," I told Becky cheerfully, when we were good to go, thinking that we could find out where she was living. She was looking around the front room. There was a corner that was obviously Jay's – a blanket that we used for him to lie on, with pillows because he could kind of sit up but mostly wobbled over, some toys from Carol, a teddy bear that Jamie and Scott had brought.

"You two shacked up?" she asked. I shrugged, trying to look casual.

"Listen, I wanna see him again –" Steve said urgently. Becky narrowed her eyes.

"Like when?"

"Well, what would be good for you?" I cut in before Steve hacked her off. "Are you back in town for good? Maybe we could babysit, you need some free time?"

She nodded, warily. I smiled, feeling like a complete fraud. I wanted to scratch her eyes out, I wanted to yank Jay out her arms and kick her worthless ass out the front door. But I wanted things to work out for Steve more.

"Yeah...babysit," Steve joined in. I realized from the way his voice was tight that he was way more upset than she had any way of knowing. "Or maybe, like a regular visit, or something. Saturdays –"

Becky laughed sharply. "Jesus Christ, you turned into Father of the Year or something? I just parked him with you is all."

"So you ain't having him adopted out?" I pounced. She sniffed, looking bored.

"Maybe."

"Maybe not," growled Steve. "You don't want him, give him to me."

Becky frowned. "What the hell? You didn't even know he existed this time last month."

"Whose fault is that?" Steve flared. "I would've been there, if you'd told me."

She rolled her eyes and moved towards the door.

"Wait up." I blurted. "Listen, it worked out good, didn't it, Jay... _John_ staying here? It ain't no big deal if he does it again sometime."

Steve finally woke up to what was happening and grabbed the document folder that the lawyer had given him. "Listen. Becky, I know you put me on the birth certificate an' all, but it ain't really enough. If I had to take Jay to the doctor or something, they'd still need your say so. If you sign this –"

"Whoa. '_Sign_'? What you talking about? I ain't signing nothing. And why the hell d'you keep calling him 'Jay'?" She bristled like an alley cat under attack.

"Just a nickname, to stop it being confusing, we already got a friend called John." I gabbled frantically. "An' this form, it's only in case. Like Steve says, at the doctor or something..."

"I ain't even said you can have him again. I gotta think about it," she said.

And she dug her heels in and wouldn't sign it. I wanted to cry. It had seemed like that would be the first step in Steve getting proper custody of Jay. She took the offer of a ride though, she wasn't stupid. It was cold enough and she didn't want to walk.

"Are you still with the band?" I asked her, when we stopped outside a rundown apartment block.

"Yeah. Kind of. The drummer got arrested in Texas, so Wolfstar is waiting to see if he gets time, before he reforms the band."

"_Wolfstar_?" Steve spluttered.

She glared. "That's his stage name." Jay was starting to snuffle in her arms. I told her I'd put some jars of baby food in the bag. Also a piece of paper with all our phone numbers, home and work. We didn't want her to have any excuse not to contact us.

Steve pulled out his wallet and emptied it of all the notes he had.

"You wanna give me money?" Becky said suspiciously.

"For the kid. Every week." Mr. Hollings had said it was important to show regular support. Steve clutched at the last straw he had. "You can come by the DX or the house, or just call, I'll come here. But every week, yeah? An' I want to see..._John_. Regular. I ain't kidding."

Becky shoved the money in her bra, which about summed up her lack of class for me, and we got the stroller and bags out. I asked if she needed help on the stairs and she said they were on the first floor. So at least we knew where she was living.

When we got back in the car, Steve stalled out the engine the first time he tried to pull away. In all the time I'd known him, he'd never done that before.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Panda Bear - you 'stall' if you make the engine die by not driving away smoothly. Steve would never do that normally! **

**Josefin, the answer to another one of your recent questions is below, which I love that you were thinking about! ;) **

**Everyone - thoughts on this one, gratefully accepted. I think you'll see why! I have a super busy weekend ahead, but I will try to update quickly, if you think I should, when you've read this...Let me know! ;)**

* * *

I jumped when Jo got back to our table. I hadn't even noticed that she'd gone to fetch another round of drinks. The DQ was quiet and we'd been holed up in there for an hour already, although I couldn't say it had helped much.

Jo pushed a Coke towards me. I wished it had a slug of vodka in it and then immediately called myself a hypocrite in my mind, thinking back to the fight I'd had with Steve last night.

_He was wasted by the time I got to his house after work. He must have got into the Jack mid-afternoon, as soon as his shift ended. Again._

_It had been a week since Jay went and Steve wasn't handling it well at all._

_I'd told him that he couldn't keep on getting drunk every night and he yelled back that I had no right to tell him what he could and couldn't do. I knew he was hurting, but he wasn't the only one missing Jay and I was mighty pissed by that point. _

"_What happened to all our plans?" I demanded. "I was living here when it suited you, when you needed a babysitter for Jay, but it seems like you could care less now. If I didn't walk over here, would you even miss me tonight?"_

"_Yeah, I'd miss you bitching at me. Like a hole in the fucking head!" he snapped. At which point I walked out and home again._

Now I sighed, thinking about it, wishing I'd been more understanding. I was still slightly pissed with him though. He hadn't even called me today. I mean, we'd both been at work, but he could have called me. Maybe even surprised me, by picking me up after work, I liked when he did that. Instead, Jo had spotted me while I was waiting at the bus stop and suggested we catch up.

Even that was sad. Just lately, when she driven past and given me a lift, it had been to get me home more quickly to Jay.

She reached across the table to pat my arm. "Oh, Evie. You guys will work it out. Steve's just on edge," she sympathized. "When he gets to talk to the lawyer again, now that the girl's back, something can be worked out, I'm sure."

Except Mr. Hollings was out of town, for a couple of weeks, on family business. His secretary had apologized when Steve tried to make an appointment to see him, and she explained it was urgent and unexpected, but she would call when he got back. That did nothing to improve Steve's mood and plenty to bring him even further down.

_We'd had a fight that night too. That one I was ashamed of and blamed myself for. It was the day after Jay had gone and Steve had been beating himself up for letting Jay go back with Becky. I'd reminded him that Mr. Hollings had said he'd be charged with kidnapping if he didn't._

"_I know that," he said angrily. "I just wish I didn't have to let him live there, in that shithole, with Christ knows what sleazebag she's shacked up with!"_

"_Well, you should've thought of all this, before you knocked her up!" I retorted. "Maybe you should've done a whole lot more thinking and a bit less screwing around."_

"_You put a lot of thought into sleeping with Richardson back then?" he snarked. _

"_Enough that we didn't bring a baby into the world," I shot back. _

"_I made a mistake!" he yelled. "You think I don't know that?" And he slammed out onto the back porch and smoked his way through a pack of weeds, before he calmed down enough to come back inside._

The stupid thing was, I knew I wasn't really angry with Steve, I was just sad about Jay. I was waking up every night because I'd been dreaming that I heard him and half the time in the daytime I kept looking around, thinking that I needed to check on him. I loved him for himself and I loved him for being Steve's. I missed him.

I swirled the straw around in my drink.

"Did you talk to Soda again?" I asked, to try and change the subject, if only slightly. Soda had been pretty cut up about Jay leaving too. For such a little guy, that kid had a huge impact all around.

Jo nodded. "It's hard for him to explain, but it's the whole 'family' thing, y'know. He misses his mom and dad still, so bad."

I remembered that being plain enough, when I first knew Soda. Sandy had scoffed at his desire to have a family, but I'd understood it.

"They all lost a lot there," I said, thinking about the impact of losing Johnny and Dallas too. Steve would never in a million years admit to being emotionally affected, but losing so many people in such a short time, Eddie's death being so recent too, no wonder he was desperate to hold onto his son.

"_Family is family." That's what he'd said to Darry_.

I needed to talk to him properly. I wanted to get back to the place we'd been in where we could discuss the future, make proper plans and see them through.

This last week sucked so much. Steve and I had been at each others' throats practically every time we'd been together. I thought back to when Sarah had her miscarriage and I'd been appalled that it seemed to drive a wedge between her and Tony. Now, I realized with a jolt, I was letting the upset over Jay come between me and Steve.

I remembered him saying I was cool, for not going ape when I found out. And I genuinely hadn't felt angry at the time. But we were also just so overwhelmed with the practicalities that maybe I didn't have time to process exactly what I felt. It was like the hurt of him having a baby with someone else had been buried while we were coping with Jay. And I'd let it out this week, right when Steve was dealing with the hurt of losing him.

Damn. I needed to get over to Steve. Let him know I was still there for him and that I was sorry for being a bitch.

I sighed and tried to concentrate on what Joanne was saying.

"...he was so angry - on Steve's behalf, he said. But I think Soda got real attached to that kid too." Jo was as concerned about her guy as I was about mine. We were both sitting there, worrying, I guess. I tried to lighten the mood some.

"Hey, at least you know that he likes kids. That's good."

She grinned. "Are you kidding? He wants at least _six_, he says. But who's gotta go through all that, six times? Not him!" I pulled a sympathetic face, thinking about Sarah and her miserable months' long puke-fest. Six times? Not sure I'd be up for that.

"You getting started any time soon?" I asked slyly, knowing full well that she and Soda were still not going all the way. They had obviously worked out something that kept both of them happy. It wasn't exactly a pact to wait for their wedding night, I thought that Jo would have told me if it was something as definite as that, but they had more patience than me; I admired their doing what they felt was right for them, even if I didn't quite understand it.

She poked her tongue out in response to my question. "You just want all the juicy details," she suggested, wagging her finger at me. "Well, there ain't any. 'Bout Soda, anyways..."

"What?" I sat up, not sure I was understanding her.

Joanne smiled wickedly. "You know Darry was at Lynette's apartment all weekend...?"

That made me grin. Lynette was a sharing kind of girl. I was sure that Darry had no idea that his exploits were discussed between her and Jo - and then between Jo and me. I was pretty sure anyway. He had looked at us a bit suspiciously the other week, when he complained that Soda had somehow busted their shower and Jo and I hadn't been able to keep a straight face. See, we knew that Lynette's landlord had given her hell for the shower at her place being ripped right off the wall, after she and Darry had gotten a little enthusiastic one time.

Jo filled me in on the latest from Lynette and I cracked up when there was something she had to ask me to clarify; she didn't always get exactly what Lynette was saying and sometimes she didn't believe her anyway. It must have been hilarious in their office, if Jo's uncle ever came in at the wrong moment while Lynette was trying to explain something intimate.

Eventually we'd talked out everything we could. Jo was giving me a ride home and I asked her to take me to Steve's instead. She looked a little worried when we got there.

"You sure he's home?"

The Chevy was parked up, but there were no lights on anywhere in the house.

With a sinking feeling, I wondered if he'd drunk himself unconscious before it got dark. I told Jo it wasn't a problem, I had a key – which Steve had given me, back when Eddie was ill and I sometimes went over to the house while Steve was still at work. I let her think he might be out, and I said that I would let myself in and wait. She made me promise to call if he didn't show.

I kicked off my shoes as I went through the entryway. Then nearly jumped out of my skin as I passed the front room and I saw Steve was sitting in there. In the dark.

I said his name and he didn't respond. I started to get a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Steve?" I repeated. "What's wrong?"

I flicked on the light.

Steve was hunched over on the edge of the armchair, his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. There was no bottle of Jack Daniels, or anything else, near him. I felt guilty about checking for that, but I did it all the same. I started to feel worried at his continued silence.

"What's the matter, baby?" _Jay? Something happened to Jay?_ I couldn't bring myself to ask again.

He didn't say 'hey' when he looked up, didn't say anything at all. He reached for a piece of paper on the floor in front of him and held it out, his eyes strangely lifeless.

For a second I thought I might hurl, then and there.

I wanted to scream, but I knew there were no words in me.

I wanted to go to him, but I couldn't make my feet work.

Because I could see the crest at the top, even without crossing the room. I could see the words 'United States Army' and I knew, without needing to read the rest, exactly what it was.

_Drafted._

_Steve was drafted._

_Oh, no, no, no..._


	8. Chapter 8

Time, which had always stretched out ahead of me, suddenly had an end point.

Two weeks until Steve had to report to the MEPS in Oklahoma City.

At which point there would be no such thing as time, because my life would stop. Unless they found him ineligible, he would go straight from the medical to induction. When he went to Fort Sill to be turned into a soldier, my life would stop. I couldn't think past that. Couldn't even begin to get my head around what would be next.

That first night, I asked him, I downright _begged_ him, not to go. Said I didn't care what he did, he could get himself sent to prison, I would prefer that, at least I would know where he was and I could wait that out.

Steve looked at me then, for long, slow seconds. He hadn't moved from the chair. By that time I was collapsed to my knees in front of him. He reached out his hand and held my face and he just said,

"I'm sorry, babe."

He couldn't tell anyone else that first night, not even Soda. We went to bed and he kissed away my tears and made love to me for a long, long time. He told me everything would be okay and I desperately wanted to believe him.

But as we lay in each other's arms, the light that had gone out of his eyes stayed gone.

xxXxx

"Coffee. I heard that you drink enough coffee to make your heart race, they stamp you 4F right off," Two-Bit suggested.

"You can burn your draft notice. Hell, you'll get on the TV." Pony made it sound so simple.

Soda had desperation in his eyes. "Canada. We'll throw a few things in the car, set off now. C'mon, _Canada_, man, you an' me."

Steve shook his head. "I ain't a coward, I ain't fakin' anything." His voice was toneless. "An' I can't burn it. All the guys who already went, it'd be like spitting on them. And what about our dads? They hadda do it, back in the day."

"You think it's the same? You think the Second World War, or Korea even, compares to Viet-friggin'-nam?" Pony spluttered. I couldn't tell if he was angry with Steve or the situation. I guess it didn't matter.

Steve sighed. "No. I ain't sayin'... Jeez, Pony. I ain't comparing the wars, I'm comparing the people. What makes me different? What makes me better, that I shouldn't go when they had to?"

I was so angry that he felt like that. I had a deep, secret pit of rage that he couldn't see that he _was _different, _was_ special. To me, to all of us.

It was Darry who came up with the only sliver of hope. Darry, who'd been eligible for the draft, and then - overnight - no longer eligible, for the worst reason, when he became Soda and Pony's guardian.

"Tell 'em about Jay. Get your lawyer moving and tell 'em Jay's your dependent."

xxXxx

Carol cried. That was inevitable.

The twins were confused, because they asked if Steve wanted to be a soldier and couldn't understand that it wasn't really a choice.

"And you said a bad word, Daddy," Scott piped up. "You said that the Nam war was a bad word and Mommy said to watch your mouth in front of me and Jamie." He sidled up to me, hissing, "You wanna know what bad word it was?"

I told him, no. I had plenty of my own bad words for the war, circling around in my head on an endless loop.

"There must be something we can do," Carol kept saying. "I can't lose you again."

"It's just two years. I'll be okay." Steve's jaw couldn't have been any tighter.

"Walt, we must be able to call someone..."

"No. It is what it is, Mom. I'll be okay."

Walt started to tell Steve about all the jobs that weren't front line. What he should try to aim for, when he was tested. How to make the best of a bad deal. I don't think he stopped to think that he went into the war in Europe as a college grad. Spent his time behind desks, not on the front line.

I knew that boys from our neighborhood were always infantry, not clerks; grunts, not officers.

I went out on their patio, but I couldn't even summon the energy to smoke.

"Evie? Do you want Steve to stay here?" I looked up as Jamie hovered next to my chair.

"Yeah, honey, I do."

"I do too." He put his little hand on my shoulder, his lip wobbling. "I'm thinking the bad word."

I pulled him onto my lap and held him tight. "Me too, honey. Me too."

xxXxx

It took another ten days for Mr. Hollings to come back from his family business. Turned out that his mother had been dying. I tried real hard to be sorry for him. But that was ten days lost. We ended up seeing him the very day before Steve was due to report to the draft board.

And in that time, Becky moved. Steve went to the apartment, to give her more money, to see Jay, and the place was deserted. He tracked down Angela Shepard and nearly got into it with Curly, for yelling at her, but she couldn't, or wouldn't, tell him where Becky was.

We'd talked about finding another lawyer, but by the time everything had been explained again – and the new lawyer's time paid for, just to duplicate everything that Mr. Hollings had already done – Steve felt he might as well stick with what he had. And he trusted Mr. Hollings. I thought he was right. Not every lawyer in town would have given an unwed greaser father the time of day, never mind seemed like he was on Steve's side.

But Mr. Hollings's reaction to the draft notice wasn't encouraging:

"This is not the best news for us."

"No shit?"

I slapped Steve's arm, horrified that he'd sworn. But Mr Hollings waved my concern aside.

"I don't mean on a personal level, although..." He changed his mind about whatever he'd been going to say. "I'm sorry, I mean the timing. If we'd had time to secure custody, it would actually have made you ineligible for the draft, as the sole custodian of a minor. As it is now, with the mother still retaining the child, I'm afraid your being drafted undoes some of the positives – a more stable home life, etc. – that we were using as bargaining tools." He sighed. "And we haven't had time to build up a believable family relationship to apply for custody yet. We can't even prove you've been contributing financially to the child, which means he is _not_ your legal dependent. No custody, no 3-A deferment. Dammit!" He threw his pen down in frustration.

My heart sank and Steve looked kind of sick. Mr Hollings frowned.

"Maybe, if you were -" He stopped. And then, strangely, it wasn't Steve he squinted at thoughtfully. It was me.

"If he was what?" I asked apprehensively.

xxXxx

Not something you carry around. I hadn't needed it since I got my driver's license. But I knew where it was. I flew into the house, barely even noticing Ma saying hello as I dived past her, opening the cabinet in the corner of the room.

Thanking Sarah's neat freakery in my head, I dragged out the file box, rifling through the papers until I saw the one I wanted, grabbed it, like my life depended on it. Which in a way it did.

Sarah came in, rubbing her eyes, just up from a nap.

"What on earth are you doing?" was her perfectly understandable greeting.

I hesitated, looked between her and Ma. I loved them both, but Steve was waiting in the car and there was so much riding on this.

xxXxx

Steve's house was next, and he was in and out equally quickly, thanks to Eddie's special drawer, where Steve still kept all important documents. There had to be a lesson in that, somewhere.

I had to remind him twice to slow down as we sped away, across town. The last thing we needed now was a ticket.

xxXxx

"_If you were married, it might convince the court that the home environment is more stable. For the child."_

And that's how Steve and I ended up at the county courthouse, how we paid the clerk for a marriage license and waited in line to be married by a judge. Never in a million years would I have thought that there would _be_ a line, late on a Wednesday afternoon, on a random day in February. Although, I guess we were lucky - if it had been the day before, we'd have been up against all those Valentine's romantics. As it was, Steve and I hadn't even marked Valentine's. It hardly seemed important against the fact of the draft.

We were next up, and the clock was heading towards four thirty real quick. I was watching it from the chairs where we waited, willing the people who went before us to talk quick and let us get in there, before the court closed for the day.

Footsteps cannoned off the walls, making me look around.

Two-Bit skidded to a stop, panting. "Seriously? You don't write, you don't call...?"

"Yeah, where were the invitations?" Soda grinned, his DX shirt flapping open, as they both caught their breath.

"How the hell...?"

I turned to the noise of even more panting. Sarah was hurrying towards me, on Tony's arm.

"Your sister called the DX, I called Two-Bit." Soda beamed at us.

Steve stood up and let Sarah sink into his chair. Tony beetled off again.

"Here," she panted, handing me a bunch of daffodils that must have been ripped from our yard. "You can't get married without flowers." Oh, lord, I was going to catch it from Marian...

"Or a ring," Two-Bit piped up helpfully. Steve and I looked at each other. All we had on us were our birth certificates, all that we'd taken the time to grab, when Mr Hollings said they'd be needed.

"_Sh..oot_, Randle." Two-Bit changed what he'd been about to say, with a guilty glance at Sarah. "You old romantic. Didn't bother with a ring, huh?"

"I don't think it's gonna matter." I was looking at the people coming out from the courtroom, then up at the clock. It was twenty five after four. We'd run out of time.

"Never say never," was Two-Bit's cryptic reply. He beckoned Steve to one side and turned his back on me.

Sarah patted my arm as I looked at the clock, fighting back tears. It was hopeless.

A piercing whistle made us all look around.

Soda was sticking his head out the courtroom door, beckoning us over. "You gettin' hitched, or what?" he demanded.

He'd slipped inside, the second the last couple had left, and spoken to the judge about us. The judge who took pity on the fact that Steve was being drafted and who admired our 'old fashioned values'.

'Old fashioned values' that Mr Hollings had pointed out, meant that Jay could be living with his stepmother even while his father was away serving his country. Maybe even get Steve's service switched from overseas to Stateside, because of 'extenuating circumstances'. And whatever other legal sounding shit would let him keep working on the custody issue.

"One second." Tony's voice held us up, but he wasn't alone.

"Evelyn Grace, if you think you're doing this without me, you think again, young lady."

"_Ma_?"

"Here," she handed me a handkerchief, with forget me knots embroidered on the corner. "'Borrowed' and 'blue'." She looked me over. "I guess everything you're wearing is 'old'."

I hugged her.

Two-Bit cleared his throat from the doorway. "Time to get a wriggle on, Tink."

"Two-Bit?" Tony stepped forwards. "Would you mind escorting the ladies?"

"My pleasure." Two-Bit gave an arm each to Ma and Sarah and they went in.

"Just us, then, Evie. If that's okay. I mean, I thought...but if you prefer not..."

I told Tony to shut up, took his arm and walked into the courtroom. It wasn't exactly walking down the aisle, but I loved him for thinking like that.

Whether the judge had ever married a girl in capris, to a guy in jeans, with a DX attendant as best man and a weeping pregnant woman as matron of honor, I don't know. He took it in his stride.

When it came to the part where he asked about rings, I piped up, "Oh, that don't matter." But Steve produced a ring box and put a ring on my finger. It was just as well everything was about done by then, because I was lost for words. I got a massive wink from Two-Bit when I looked up.

I caught Steve's eye as he went to kiss me. What I saw there, in that split second, was everything I needed to know about being loved. I hoped he saw the same in me.

The judge asked to shake Steve's hand and wished him luck. He was a chunky old guy, he looked like he could have made a good department store Santa, if you imagined a beard on him. He smiled at me and asked if he could kiss me on the cheek. He told me that we were the couple he had the most hope for out of everyone he'd married that day. That was probably breaking some rule or other. I'm sure judges aren't supposed to have favorites.

Outside the court house, everyone else wanted to kiss me too, which was slightly freaky. I was more concerned about Ma, who was starting to look nervous. Sarah took her over to Tony's car and she seemed more comfortable. I handed back her handkerchief.

"Else it wasn't borrowed," I pointed out.

Sarah sighed. "You didn't have anything new to wear."

I waved my ring finger at her. "Sure I did. Look!" I hugged her and thanked her for the flowers, when what I meant was 'Thank you for being here'.

I was looking at the ring as I walked back over to Steve. It was a simple gold band, nothing fancy. Pretty much what I would have chosen, if we'd had that luxury. "Where did this even come from?"

Two-Bit answered, folding his arms and looking mighty pleased with himself. "Last time I wanna hear my antiques called 'junk', okay?"

"It ain't fenced, is it?" I had to ask.

"Hey! I don't do that. It came from a perfectly respectable source. It fit?"

I nodded. "Almost."

He shrugged. "I grabbed the smallest ones I had, for Stevie to pick one. I heard that new Mrs. Randle was an itty bitty thing."

Soda snorted with laughter. "Oh, yeah. _'Mrs Randle'._ Shit, you two are really married!"

xxXxx

"What are you doing? I just wanna go home," I didn't want to sound scratchy, but I could think of better things for us to do with our remaining time, than get a freaking milkshake.

We'd gone right back to the lawyer's office, catching him as he was leaving, so Steve could sign whatever it was that made a difference, now that we had a marriage certificate to prove we were serious about everything in the whole goddamn world. I think Mr Hollings stayed back, hoping that we'd made it, I don't think lawyers work past five thirty as a rule; for sure, all the other offices were dark.

But now, Steve ignored me and pulled into the DQ parking lot.

"Get out, babe. Please."

I started to argue, but he repeated the request. He grabbed my arm and marched me around the side of the building. I started to find it hard to breathe properly, because I knew, all of a sudden, what he was doing.

_Too early. Too goddamn early. _It should be March. Our first kiss had been in March and after last year's anniversary of that, he'd promised me we be here this March too...

"_Next year too, huh? I dunno what we'll do if they ever tear this place down."_

Oh, God. How had we considered the building disappearing, but not one of us? Where would he be next March?

He kissed me long and hard, almost hurting me with how hard he held me.

"_Evie._" He kept us close, speaking right into my ear, his voice husky with emotion. "I can't believe they screwed with our anniversary, but I will be back. You hear me? _I will be back_."

I ignored the tears that were pooling in my eyes and I nodded. Because if he said it, it would be true. It had to be true. Please God. _Please_.

"Anyway," I choked out. "This is our anniversary now."

He wiped away a tear from my cheek. The only one I let spill.

"Babe. I got a favor to ask. I know you wanna go home –" _and, oh Christ, it was _his_ house he was talking about, that was home now, we were married, that was my house too, my home now, like I'd wanted, but I didn't want it to be for this reason..._

"Evie?"

I got a grip. I had to, for him. I couldn't have him worried about me, I needed him to focus on himself, keep himself safe. I blinked furiously, heard him out and agreed to what he was asking.

He smiled. "Thank you. Gimme another kiss first. This one's gotta count for next year too."

* * *

**A/N: And that's where the song title borrowed for this fic comes in...**

_**Love me two times, baby  
Love me twice today  
Love me two times, girl  
I'm goin' away  
Love me two times, girl  
One for tomorrow  
One just for today  
Love me two times  
I'm goin' away **_


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Josefin, thank you for the kind words. (I researched the hell out of this, so I hope you don't come to regret your appreciation of the army details...) And Jas. Yes. I live to make you cry :P**

* * *

What Steve wanted was to swing by my house. My _old_ house, I needed to think of it as. To ask my sister for the favor.

Sarah had given up work a week or so back. She found being on her feet too much, plus there was the fact that she was still puking like it was going out of fashion. I guessed no one wanted a pregnant stomach bumping them anyway, as they had their hair done. The girls at the beauty parlor had thrown her a little party on her last day and Tony had picked her up, because there were presents for the baby and all her stuff to bring home. All her stuff.

They were surprised to see us, of course, and she looked equally horrified and sad, when Steve asked her. But she said yes.

And I sat on the stairs, feeling sick to my stomach, listening to the sound of her clippers in our kitchen, as she cut off Steve's hair.

"Hey." Tony was looking down at me. He sat on the stair, squeezing next to me.

"He's gonna be pissed, if he did this and they find him 4F after all," I said, covering the wobble in my voice real good.

"You want them to find something wrong with him?" The question was quiet, gently meant, and I knew I was supposed to say, _no, of course not_. But honestly? I sank to a new low in my opinion of myself.

I wished that Steve had something wrong with him. A heart murmur, for real, never mind the coffee overdose idea. TB, maybe, that he'd never had diagnosed or any symptoms for. Something wrong with his eyes. Flat feet, for Chrissakes, whatever the hell that actually meant - feet had to be flat for you to walk on them, didn't they? Something, anything.

_Don't make him go, I don't want him to go, don't make him go. _

"Honey, you know why he's doing this here?" I looked at Tony as he spoke, quietly again. "He wants it to be _his_ choice about his hair. Not something they did _to _him. You get that?"

The noise of the clippers had stopped. I bit my lip and nodded. Tony smiled tightly.

"You gotta be strong for him. We all do."

I nodded again.

"_Holy shit_!" Steve had gone into the bathroom, to look in the mirror. When I got to the door, he was rubbing his hand over his head as he stared at himself. He turned to me and I knew I had a split second to react, to choose how this was going to go.

_Oh. Oh, his beautiful, sexy, hair._

"Christ," I drawled. "Who the hell knew you had such a funny shaped head?"

His mouth twitched in an effort at a half smile. "Yeah. Figured I'd better get you legally caught before you found out the truth."

"Oh, I think 'weird skull' is on the list of things you can get an annulment for..." I went up to him and reached up to stroke the buzz cut. I could tell from his eyes that he knew damn well I was making the best of this and he was grateful. He kissed me and I slid my hands around the back of his head.

"Shit!" I whispered, like I was suddenly thinking of something.

"What?"

"What am I gonna hold onto?" I teased, pretending to grab a handful of air at the back of his head.

That made him snort with laughter and he grabbed me close, breathing in my ear, "Let's go home an' find out."

And that would have worked as a plan, except the guys were already there. Jo and Lynette too. All sitting on the porch, bottles in hand, even Ponyboy. Soda's eyes went wide as Steve climbed out and they all saw his hair. They stood up, to greet us.

"Evie, I'm sorry, I tried to tell them," Joanne apologized as we came up the path. She glared at Soda. "I said, 'This is their honeymoon night!'"

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. Like that wasn't in the back of the Chevy, years ago."

"Excuse me!" I said, indignantly, swatting at him. "It was not!"

Swatting him from the other side, Darry joined in with, "Soda!" just as,

"WHOA!"

Two-Bit yelled out loud, making everyone jump, as Steve opened the front door with his key. Jo and Lynette had been hugging me and congratulating me on the fact that I was married, but we all stared at Two-Bit in surprise, wondering what was up.

He regarded Steve like he was disgusted with him. "Man, do you know _nothing_ about freakin' tradition?" And with that, he scooped me up and tossed me into a shocked Steve's arms. He staggered and nearly dropped me, as Two-Bit crowed, "Carry her over the goddamned threshold!"

And so my married life started with everyone laughing fit to bust and Steve depositing me in the entryway so he could take a swipe at Two-Bit and tell him not to treat me like a football and the whole damn lot of us were piling in, grabbing glasses and pouring drinks and if it had been any other day, and for any other reason, it would have been...fun.

For those seconds when I forgot what was going to happen in the morning, it _was_ fun - when the guys compared Steve's head to a tennis ball and threatened to see if he would bounce; when they tried to 'confiscate' his leather jacket because they said he didn't qualify as a greaser no more; when Soda insisted that I sit on his lap because he'd never flirted with a married woman before and Two-Bit, Darry and Steve yelled, '_Liar_!' in perfect unison.

It didn't go late though, because despite everyone's best efforts to party, it _was_ my wedding night and it _was_ my last night with Steve for who knew how long.

"I ain't joking," Steve said firmly, as they lined up to say goodbye. "I don't want no fuss and bother tomorrow. I'm just getting on a freakin' bus, is all. I don't want no one there."

They nodded, some more obviously reluctant than others. Darry, Lynette and Pony went out, after she kissed Steve and they gave him handshakes that turned into those 'clap on the back' guy hugs. Two-Bit just hugged him right off, telling Steve he was a damn fool for not trying the coffee trick, offering to get hold of some speed instead because that would work too. I didn't catch what Steve muttered to him, because Jo was saying goodbye to me, before she kissed Steve and went out onto the porch, but I heard Two-Bit say, "I promise," before he went.

Soda didn't say anything for a couple of seconds. I stood back a ways. Jo and I were like sentries, either side of them, as they faced off in the entryway.

"So, I could write you, I guess."

Steve rolled his eyes."Jesus, like it won't be tough enough, I gotta go blind tryin' to read your handwriting?"

Soda smiled. _"There are chickens scratching in a yard..."_

"_...would be ashamed of that pathetic effort..."_

"_...Curtis," _they both finished together, smirking at whatever memory they were sharing, whatever teacher they were picturing. Soda shook his head.

"The fucker never would use my first name."

"I ain't sure he ever believed it was true. I still got his hubs out back," Steve added the last comment conversationally.

Soda laughed, his face lighting up, then instantly falling as he grabbed onto Steve, pulling him into a hug. I looked away, tried not to overhear. When I looked back, Soda was leaving the porch, Joanne tucked in under his arm, her hand patting him as she spoke to him quietly. I was pretty sure he was crying.

I walked past Steve to close the front door. When I turned back, he had a hold of himself.

"I guess we should clean up," I said.

He shook his head. "Tomorrow."

I nodded, walking into his outstretched arms and kissing him. He barely tasted of Jack; the guys had all drunk far more than him.

"You think you can go for a guy with short hair?" he asked me, almost seriously.

I pulled a face. "Maybe I secretly had a thing for short hair, all the time. How about you, you got a thing for married women?"

Steve picked me up, heading for the bedroom in his own version of carrying me over the threshold. "Only one," he said. "Only one, babe."

xxXxx

Mind over matter. I reckon I could have walked over hot coals that morning. Steve didn't want a fuss? Steve wasn't getting a fuss. He was quiet in the car, the whole way there. When he pulled up outside the bus station, he selected a place right at the edge of the parking lot.

"Don't want you to get boxed in, you'll haveta back out," he explained.

"I can drive, including backing out, thank you!" I objected. It didn't sound authentically snippy to me, but he relaxed some.

He only had one small bag. He wouldn't exactly be needing much.

"You'll write me, tell me how it's going, what Hollings says about Jay?" The millionth time of asking.

"If I can be bothered." I was already planning my first letter.

Every noise of an engine, or brakes hissing, or the bus doors opening, sounded like a second lost to me, whole chunks of time breaking off, crumbling away before I could grab them. We stood surrounded by dozens of people and I couldn't have told you what a single one looked like.

I'd tucked my hand into Steve's, the second we stepped away from the Chevy. Normally he would have called me sissy, claimed it wasn't cool for a greaser to hold hands on the street, even with his girl. He hadn't say a word.

Suddenly he caught me up in a hug, crushed me to his chest, whispered, "I love you."

And I wished he didn't.

I wished he'd said 'Me too.' I wanted things normal. I wanted things back to how they were.

"Please be safe." It was more like a whisper than I meant it to be. More like a prayer to be honest.

"Nothing in this world's gonna stop me coming back to you." He put me down, touched my hair, my face, like he was memorizing me. "You an' me, Evie, that's how it is." He kissed me, then held onto me, resting his chin on my head. I wanted to freeze that moment, hold him there forever. "Don't cry. It'll be okay." He breathed the words into my hair.

"I ain't cryin'," I lied, swallowing hard and not blinking.

He nodded. And I ignored the fact that his eyes were shining too. Mind over matter. I stood there watching as he climbed on the bus, a fake smile plastered on my face. I stood there waving as it pulled away. I stood there until I couldn't see the bus any more.

When I made my way back to the Chevy, I was still holding the tears back.

Two-Bit hopped down off the hood.

"What're you doin' here? Steve said he didn't want anyone coming down."

"Did he see me? Nah. I let him have his quiet, dignified exit," Two-Bit said indignantly. "'Sides, I didn't come for him, did I?" He held out his arms as I started sobbing.

xxXxx

If the bus station had seemed unreal, the house was more so.

I ignored Steve's careful parking to make it easier for me and I let Two-Bit drive the Chevy home. Home. That word again. My key stayed deep in my purse and I used Steve's to open the front door.

"_What if you come back and I've gone out dancing?" I'd asked, attempting to tease him, as he pressed his key into my hand at the bus station. _

"_You'll be there," he'd teased back. "Barefoot and in the kitchen, Mrs Randle, if you know what's good for you."_

_But not pregnant. Not even last night would make that happen. I'd asked him. Said there was no reason to be careful any more, said that I would be happy for it to happen. He'd shaken his head sadly and told me that he didn't want to miss anything so important._

"_We got time, babe. We'll have as many kids as you want, when I get back."_

"You want me to get lost?" Two-Bit asked, hovering on the porch. I told him no, told him I'd make him coffee and he could help me clean up from last night.

Despite what Steve had said, we hadn't got to it, of course. We spent the night in each others' arms, shaking ourselves awake every time we dropped off, wringing out every second. Steve had said he would sleep on the bus. I had no idea what I would do with my day. With any day now.

"_Remember what we said about the house, yeah? Everything we talked about, any changes you like." Steve had kissed my forehead as we lay curled around each other. "I left a letter for the bank, to put the account in both our names, you'll have to go in and sign something. All the stuff for the power company and that shit is the drawer..."_

_I'd tried to stop him, but he kept talking check books and insurance policies and bills until I kissed him hard and told him to shut up. Told him I knew what I was doing, he could trust me._

"_Just want to know you're okay, babe."_

I walked into the front room, looked at the mess.

"Glory, that Ponyboy sure can drink," Two-Bit said with a wink, grabbing empty beer bottles from where he himself had been sitting.

"Yeah, he's a worry." My voice sounded hollow.

Passing Steve's bedroom, I stopped and stared at the unmade bed.

_I'd sat right there and watched him as he packed. He'd picked up his shaving kit, that kind of thing. He'd paused for a second with a half used can of pomade in his hand, then he screwed the top on tight and tossed it across to me. _

"_Guess you can find a home for that."_

"Tink?" I had no idea how long I'd been standing there. Two-Bit steered me into the kitchen and put a mug of coffee in my hands. "You want me to run you back to your mom's?" he asked, worry written all over his face.

I said yes, which surprised him, but I followed it up by saying that I meant, would he help me pick up a few things? Help me move in properly.

"You sure about that? You don't gotta do that right away."

I did, because if I didn't do it now, I might never have the guts.

xxXxx

Sarah wasn't really up to running up and down the stairs, which meant that I got to shove my stuff into boxes and bags without her advice in my ear. She still wanted to talk me out of moving. I tried to explain why it was so important to me, to be in Steve's house, to look after his things. I didn't think she understood.

"Look at it this way, you get a nursery to decorate now," I told her, with as fake a smile as I'd ever plastered on. Ma said quietly that I should still think of it as home and go there if I ever wanted to. I said I would, to make her happy.

I looked around my room. Hesitated over the last thing, memories flooding over me:

"_I ain't gonna be able to sleep with fuckin' Paul Newman lookin' at me."_

I took the poster down carefully, rolling it up and carrying it downstairs, where Two-Bit was waiting on the porch.

"Evie, I...I don't know if I should've..." Sarah was practically squirming as she held out an envelope folded into a little package. "But I...I mean, I don't know if you want..." I realized she was getting a little teary eyed. Hormones are a bitch when you're pregnant.

But when I saw what she'd done, saw that the envelope contained the longest curls of Steve's hair and she'd kept them safe for me, my own eyes were more than misty as I hugged her.


	10. Chapter 10

Some honeymoon; me at work, him in Oklahoma City being poked and prodded by Army doctors.

It was still only midday when Two-Bit and I dumped all my stuff at Steve's house. _My_ house. I was tired, but I was also afraid to sit around and start thinking, so I said 'Thanks and goodbye' to Two-Bit, dropped him at the junk store and drove myself to work.

I had to cope with Marian, of course, and her reaction to what we'd done. She acted sore, told me all the plans she'd had for my floral centerpieces and bouquet, what she would have done for me if I'd had a 'real' wedding. I pointed out that no wedding on the North side ran to the kind of displays she was talking up.

She sprang for Chinese food and a bottle of wine for lunch, as a celebration, which made the afternoon go a lot smoother, although maybe not all the bunches we sold late in the day were as neat as they could have been.

I asked about her weddings, while we were eating, since we were talking ideal displays.

"Oh, I never had two cents first time around. We ran away. Eloped. Happiest I ever was in my life."

I was so interested, she'd never told me that much detail. Maybe it was drinking in the daytime, that she got a little carried away.

"You two, you and Steve, you remind of me and Aaron. We was only kids."

I asked her what happened to him.

"He was killed in an accident on the rig. That's why we came to Tulsa, he got a job on the rigs when he came back from Korea. Who knew he was safer over there?" She smiled sadly. "The next one was the pig, I divorced his worthless ass soon as I possibly could. And number three, well, I don't know where number three is. I guess he decided he wasn't cut out for marriage, because he up and went without an explanation." She took a long drink of her wine. "I think, honestly, I got it right first time and some things just can't be replicated."

"But you go out? You date?" I knew she did.

She hesitated, like she thought better of what she was about to say, then she laughed:

"Hell, I like a little dinner and dancing, I'm only human. But I ain't getting stuck again. I done my time."

I played with the last of my food. "How did you stand it? When Aaron was in Korea?"

"I ain't gonna lie, Sweet Pea. It was hard. But you got people around, your friends, _me_. We'll get you through."

I really wanted to believe her.

xxXxx

Going home to an empty house was weird. I realized that I was probably different from most people, because chances are it happened to them fairly regularly. But if you grow up with a mom who never leaves the house and always has the TV on, there's a certain expectation that your brain has, regarding noise, when you step in the front door.

Maybe I would have to leave the radio on all day.

I looked at the stuff I'd dumped in the entryway. A couple of bags of clothes were easy to hang up – Steve's closet wasn't exactly bulging with gear. I put my make up on the dresser. Most of my bathroom stuff ended up balanced on the edge of the tub; I needed a shelf put up in there.

I jumped right out of my skin when the phone rang.

"_Evie, darlin'?" _

"You okay? Where are you? Are you okay?" My mouth was working independent of my brain when I heard his voice.

There was a short chuckle. _"Gimme a chance to get a word in, babe. I'm at Fort Sill. 1-A all the way."_

I hadn't realized I'd still been clinging to one last shred of hope until it was torn away by those words.

"_I gotta go, babe. This was just to let you know I'm here and Basic starts in the morning..."_

"No. Don't. What are you –"

"_Evie, darlin', there's a line a mile long for the phone. I gotta go. I'mma write you the address here, okay?"_

"Steve! I love you."

"_Yeah, me too, babe."_

The line went dead.

xxXxx

I lasted a week, knocking over shampoo bottles and stuff every time I turned around, before I asked for help, putting up a set of shelves in the bathroom. Spilling the talc I'd bought expressly because it was advertised by Twiggy was the final straw.

Darry seemed to think it was a useful learning exercise for Soda, but as far as I could see he was more of a hindrance than a help. It was the first time Soda had been by the house that week, for a start, and he was nervy, his eyes flicking around like he expected Steve to be around every corner.

I knew how he felt.

So far, I'd had visits from Jo, who brought me a set of groovy pillows for the couch as a wedding present, Sarah – who brought a casserole, like I was ill or something – and Marian, who brought wine.

Two-Bit had managed to drop by twice, right at dinner time, although the second time he brought take-out burgers, so I couldn't complain.

And every time someone left, the house grew around me, empty and echoing, no matter how loud I played Steve's favorite records.

"Evie, you got mail!" Soda yelled, on his way back from the truck with whatever Darry had sent him for. Darry was perfectly well prepared, he'd just wanted Soda to stop asking smutty questions about 'handling wood' and 'the perfect screw', I think.

I took the parcel from the mailman, wondering what on earth it could be. It was the size of a couple of small pillows, wrapped tight. But the return address stamp was military, '_Administration'_ at Fort Sill.

I was crying when they found me, sitting on the floor in the entryway, the brown paper hurled away from me in a ball, and Steve's clothes on my lap, as I hugged his leather jacket.

Darry tried to explain that the Army did this, they had to, they couldn't store thousands of guys' gear, that Steve would be in uniform the whole time now. But all I could think was, that they'd taken the last piece of his identity.

xxXxx

I ain't scared of thunderstorms, so that wasn't why I went around putting on the lights. It just got so damn dark so quickly. The knocking on the front door made me jump some, I admit, but that's nothing to be ashamed of; some evenings it got so quiet in that house, I resorted to talking to myself, to break the silence that crept around, stalking me. Longest two weeks of my life, so far.

"Lord, Pony! You look like you been swimming." I yanked the front door wide and let him in. A sorry excuse for a weed was just about holding onto a spark in his lips and he nodded ruefully.

"I know. I shoulda stayed up at Bud's, but I thought I'd get home okay."

"_Where_?" I asked, in surprise.

He rolled his eyes. "Not you too. _Bud _Williamson. Jeez, Darry always thinks I said I went to Buck's..." He looked at himself in the mirror in the entryway, flicking water off his hair. I got him a towel and suggested he change out of his t shirt. He protested, but I told him not to be stupid and I put one of Steve's sweatshirts in his hand and then shoved him towards the bathroom.

When he came through to the kitchen a little later, he looked warmer already. I offered him coffee but he asked me shyly if I had cocoa, so that's what I made.

"Sorry, to land on you an' all."

"Shut up. I ain't gonna be the one tells your big brother you got pneumonia because you walked past this house for fear of disturbing me. Did Soda remember to give you that mail that came here?"

He nodded, a huge smile developing. "Steve's step dad sent me a copy of his book. I don't have to use the library one no more." I'd figured it was that. "And, not only that, he sent me an original draft of the best story. So I can see how it changed. It was real interesting, he kept some of the description, but at the end..." Pony trailed off, seemingly embarrassed by his rambling. "Anyway, it was neat. I wrote him thank you."

I tried not to smile at the way he disguised his enthusiasm with careful cool. "Did you eat yet?"

He shook his head.

More thunder rolled around and the rain came down even harder, if that was possible.

I opened the fridge. "You wanna eat here?"

Ponyboy peered over my shoulder. "Are you livin' on eggs?"

"Pretty much. It's hard, when it's just me, to be bothered about cooking much."

He reached for an onion and some other stuff. "Tortilla then."

It was still raining after we ate what was an excellent omelette. I complimented him and he shrugged modestly.

"It ain't as good as Mom made it, but it's better than Soda's. He puts way too much weird stuff in." He looked at the clock. "I oughta get goin'."

I offered to drive him, but he said he would call Darry. I got on with the dishes while he made the call. There was a pause after he said where he was and would Darry come get him.

"I dunno...maybe..." he said, looking over his shoulder at me. He held the phone away from his ear. "Darry says to ask you if you mind me to stay over, what with the storm an' all. He ain't itching to drive up and get me."

I nodded. "No problem."

He relayed that to Darry and they finished up their conversation. I had a sneaking suspicion that Darry had no issue with driving five minutes in the rain, that he was setting Pony to babysit me. I didn't care.

We watched some TV and then I said I was going to make up the bed in Eddie's room.

"I can just sleep on the couch," Pony said quickly.

"We got a perfectly good bedroom, goin' to waste," I sighed. "Unless that would that be weird for you, sleeping in Eddie's room?"

Ponyboy shrugged. "Guess not. If you think it'd be okay with Steve."

I opened the door. The bed needed linen, but I had vacuumed and dusted the room. There was nothing of Eddie's around in it, Steve had taken all his clothes to the goodwill and he wasn't exactly one for knickknacks.

"Steve didn't use this room yet?" Pony asked me, as I pulled sheets out of the dresser drawer and threw them on the mattress. I remembered when I first knew the Curtis boys, it was less than a year after their folks went and they weren't using their parents' room at all. They did now. Three rooms, three guys, it just made sense, once some of the hurt faded, I guess.

I thought about it, in terms of Steve and Eddie. It didn't seem quite the same to me. Not that anyone could measure love, I didn't think. Not that I necessarily believed that it hurt the Curtis boys more to think about their folks, than it did for Steve to think about Eddie being gone. I just suspected that a lot of Steve's reluctance was down to growing up with Eddie's 'rules'. He hadn't been allowed in this room when he was a kid and old habits die hard.

But if we were talking 'hurt', I was having a hard time being in Steve's room on my own. Every time I woke up in his bed, I reached for him. Every time I opened my eyes and he wasn't there, it was a crushing blow.

I remembered once, when we'd been playing make believe and talking about what we would do to the house if it was ours. I'd countered some suggestion that Steve made with the comment: '_If this was our house, we'd have the big room_.'

I looked around, thoughtfully.

xxXxx

When my alarm went off, I sat bolt upright. I hadn't slept that late in a while. I hadn't slept that _well_ in a while. I was mad with myself for that, really.

See, I was all over this women's lib shit. I could do whatever I wanted, live however I wanted. Independent woman. This was my house now, as much as Steve's and – thinking back only a little while – this was definitely what I'd wanted, to be out from under Sarah's eye and be my own boss.

But, Christ, I was lonely. Every night I wadded up the last t shirt Steve had worn before he left, using it like a comfort blanket, as I lay there staring at his photo on the night stand, unable to sleep.

I was also more of a wuss than I liked to admit, convincing myself that the creaks and noises were burglars and murderers surrounding the place. Well, maybe not for real, I still had some grip on sanity, but there was no denying I'd slept a hell of a lot better, knowing Ponyboy was in the next room.

And hearing someone else in the kitchen as I got up was plenty cheerful too.

I made breakfast and offered Pony a lift to school. We had to stop for his books, but since it was raining again –although nothing like as hard – he accepted the ride happily.

"Anyone else we oughta be stopping for?" I was angling for information on his love life and he knew it. He rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the side window. "What happened to Carrie?" I asked, 'Carrie' being the girl he'd brought along a few times when the gang got together. She was small and had short hair, a fact that Two-Bit had razzed _me_ about. I told him not to be stupid. Plenty of girls had a Twiggy do.

"She had to move. To Ohio." Pony glanced at me quickly, his cheeks reddening slightly. "To live with her aunt...her brother that she lived with, got arrested...It ain't like when..."

"Nah, I didn't imagine it would be. I'm sorry, I liked her. I think she _liked_ you."

He shrugged, picking at the zipper on his jacket. "I dunno. Darry said we was too young to know."

"Darry don't know everything." I winked at him as I uttered this blasphemy. "Just 'cause he was late gettin' roped..." Pony laughed at me. Lynette was kind of a bossy one.

"Well, there's this other chick I think is kind of cute. But she's dating this kid I know, Bryon. So, y'know, that's not going anywhere."

"Bryon? Wasn't he the one got you mixed up in that fight at the dance that time?" I pulled over in front of the school. It looked so different to me now. Smaller.

Pony shook his head. "Nah, that wasn't his fault. He's okay. Thanks for the lift, Evie." I told him no problem and watched as he shot away, to get out the rain.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I know, Evie didn't get it quite right about the fight at the dance (That Was Then, This Is Now) - she's not really going to know the details of Pony's social life. But it does let you know a little of the timescale I have going. (Extra points to anyone who noticed that when Angela showed up recently, she still had her long hair, but she was married...)**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Emily, thanks for your kind words. :) I haven't any answers on Sandy (or Sylvia, who was also asked about) partly because Evie has made the effort to move on and partly because I think what Sandy goes through probably deserves its own fic! This one got kind of long on its own! **

* * *

_**Late March 1967...**_

I was bringing in some laundry when Two-Bit's Plymouth squealed to a stop outside the house, making me smile; I swear you could hear those brakes from a mile away. I'd taken a chance on pinning stuff to the line before I went to work and although it wasn't that warm yet, it had stayed dry all day, so I was congratulating myself on a neat bit of housewifely organization as I folded the towels and stuff into the basket. I yelled that I was in the yard, so he knew to come around in back.

I dropped the basket when I saw him.

"What the hell? Two-Bit!"

He was holding his middle and leaning into the porch post and his face was as white as a sheet, in between the vicious looking bruises coming up. I ran over and tried to help him into the house. He stank like there'd been an explosion at a whiskey drinking contest.

"Hey, Tink." His voice sounded odd to me. Not just blitzed odd, but like he was gritting his teeth and the words couldn't quite make it out. "Had a li'l trouble..."

"No shit?" I got him onto one of the kitchen chairs and tried to look at his bruises. There was a trickle of dried blood on his temple. "How bad you hurt?"

"Li'l bit," he whispered. "Tried to self medicate, ain't workin' so good."

"What do you want? I ain't got but aspirin...What –" I broke off as he relaxed his grip on his side, wincing as he leaned back in the chair. There was blood on the hand that flopped onto his lap.

"Two-Bit?" I held my breath as I moved his jacket aside. His T shirt was soaked with red, down his left side, the waist band of his jeans too. "Holy Christ! Two-Bit!" I was afraid to lift up his T shirt, but I did it. The cut curved across the bottom of his ribs towards his belly button. It was oozing rather than gushing but I still gasped in shock at the way his skin was open, his whole side smeared with blood. "We gotta get you to the hospital."

"Nah. They'll write it up an' the cops..." He shook his head, closing his eyes. "It ain't nothin'. You got a Band-Aid?"

"Shut the fuck up! This needs more than a Band-Aid, Two-Bit, you need – " As I scolded him, his eyes rolled up in his head and he slid off the chair onto the floor. I tried to stop him but about all I could do was to catch his head and stop it from bouncing on the tiles.

I was dimly aware of the fact that I felt nauseous, but the adrenaline that shot through me seemed to make that something I could ignore right now. I spent a split second looking around the kitchen, before I remembered that what I was looking for was in the basket, out in the yard. I ran and brought it inside, wadding up clean dishtowels and pushing them against the cut on Two-Bit's belly.

Another split second, as I looked at the phone on the wall. I didn't want to leave what I was doing, but I knew I needed help. Of course, I could have called an ambulance, but I didn't, out of some desire to do what Two-Bit wanted, or out of some distrust of the authorities, I didn't know.

I called the Curtis house. Darry answered. I spoke to him, with the phone tucked into my shoulder, stretching the cord as I went back to pressing on the wound. He groaned.

"_Shit_. I haven't got the truck, Soda went to pick up Pony from track practice."

My heart sank. "Darry, he's out cold. What should I do? He said no hospital but...I'll have to call an ambulance. I can't get him in the car by myself."

"Hold on. I'm on my way."

I kept repeating those words and the calm way he said them, as I pressed the dishtowel to Two-Bit's side. I tried to stop myself calculating the distance from their house to ours. It wasn't so far. We walked it all the time, fifteen minutes, tops. It was down the street and then left...

"Was I on the floor before?"

"No, you dumb bastard, you were not." I was crying with relief, as Two-Bit blinked at me. He moved his hand towards mine and I hissed at him to keep fucking still or I'd clock him one myself.

"Gotta love a woman in charge," he mumbled, closing his eyes again. I was almost sure he didn't pass out though.

I hadn't looked at the clock as I made the call, but I know it was nowhere near fifteen minutes when Darry appeared at the open door. He was panting pretty hard but he dropped to his knees next to me and flicked his eyes between me and Two-Bit.

"How we doin', guys?" He sucked in a couple of huge breaths, motioning for me to move the dish towel back a little. The top half of the cut wasn't bleeding any more, I didn't think, but the end of the curve pushed out a couple of bright red beads again. Darry looked close, then put his own hand back on the cloths and I sat back a little.

"Darry, man? What'cha doin' here?"

Darry didn't answer Two-Bit, he turned to me. "You give him anything or was he this loaded when he rocked up?" I told him Two-Bit had only arrived seconds before I called and he'd been in this state already. "He drive here?" Darry whistled. "Mathews, you bonehead, you're gonna need stitches buddy, no arguing."

Two-Bit mumbled something I didn't catch.

"What do we do?" I asked. "Can you stitch him up?"

"Me? How the hell would I know how to do that? And what would we stitch him with, your sewing kit?" Darry looked horrified. "No way. I can do Mercurochrome or sports strapping on a sprain. Neither of which are gonna help him this time. We gotta get him to a doctor." He peeled the cloth back gingerly, checking again.

I bolted for the sink and threw up.

Wiping my mouth off, I ran the faucet hard. "Sorry. It was worse seeing you do it, than when I was doing it myself."

"S'okay. I seen you puke before." Darry winked at me. _Oh, God._ "You did good, Evie, if this has stopped since you were holding it. It's deep enough though. We're moving him out of here."

Two-Bit was mumbling again and this time I heard him say 'Steve'.

"Yeah, well, we can all have fun imagining what he'd have to say about you bleeding all over his kitchen floor, huh?" Darry got Two-Bit sitting up. I marveled at how calm he was, how he kept joking with Two-Bit.

Darry frowned. "Evie, is the Chevy gassed up? I don't trust the Plymouth." I nodded and Darry smiled at me. He got Two-Bit on his feet, holding him up by draping Two-Bit's arm across his own shoulders. "Honey, this is probably gonna make him bleed again. Grab a new cloth and try to keep it on him, while I move him, yeah?"

I shut the back door and got on the other side of Two-Bit. It took forever to get him to the front door, because he dragged his feet and Darry had to practically carry him. I grabbed the key from the entryway and my purse, darting to open the Chevy. Somehow we got him lying on the back seat. I squashed next to him, resuming dishcloth duty, and Darry drove us.

Two-Bit was screwing up his face with pain, although there wasn't much more blood, once he was lying down again.

"I'm tellin' ya, man," Two-Bit said, presumably to Darry. "That bastard had it comin'. Fuckin' Campbell. He ain't talk 'bout my buddy like that. Steve ain't..." the rest of it was inaudible.

I looked up at Darry, then back at Two-Bit.

"_Frank_ Campbell?" I asked. "Two-Bit? Frankie Campbell cut you?"

"An' I got him good, you better believe it. He ain't say that again in a hurry..."

"What? What'd he say about Steve?" I asked, but Darry hushed me and told me it was more important Two-Bit didn't shoot his mouth off at the hospital.

"You hear me, buddy? You keep a lid on, about Campbell. We'll get it clear after."

Two-Bit made a zipper motion across his mouth and Darry nodded, glancing back at him. "Buddy? You got loaded and fell on a broken bottle, okay?"

"Again?" Two-Bit sounded disappointed. "Coulda been a shark attack..."

"_Two-Bit_," Darry growled and Two-Bit waved his hand airily.

"Bottle. Me fall. Got it."

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry that they had the routine down pat. "What about his face though?" He had so obviously been in a fight.

"Stairs," Two-Bit hiccoughed. "Fell down stairs. It's an old 'un, but a good 'un."

We walked him into the Emergency Room, like we had out of the house. There was no way he could have done it under his own steam and I blessed the fact that Darry had answered the phone, because I wasn't sure even Soda could have taken Two-Bit's full weight the way his brother did.

One look at Two-Bit's blood stained T shirt and the nurse on admissions had us through and in a cubicle where he collapsed onto a bed and closed his eyes. As people started looking at him, the first nurse asked for his details.

"Evie, you go, give his name and stuff, yeah?" Darry smiled at me. I opened my eyes wide to beam the question at him, _his real name_? He bent close to my ear. "'S'okay, he ain't public enemy number one. Just his name and address."

Of course the woman at the desk wanted much more.

"I don't know his social security number," I said for about the fifth time as she glared at me. Inspiration struck me. "I'll cover it, okay?" She shut up and looked at me skeptically. I opened my purse and slapped my check book on the counter between us, to prove that I could pay. Suddenly what she wanted was _my _name and address, for where to send the bill.

Lord only knew what Steve would say, that my first use of our shiny new joint bank account was to write a check for mending Two-Bit.

Darry came up to me as I sat, completely drained, on one of those god-awful uncomfortable chairs that hospitals always seem to provide.

"He's gonna be fine. A few stitches, all good," he said, then, "Evie, honey? I think we oughta wash up, huh?" He gestured at my hands with his own bloodstained one. Oh, Jeez. I looked at the dried blood on me, turning my hands over. "C'mon." I followed him down the hall to the restrooms and scrubbed my hands until they hurt.

Darry was waiting for me outside.

We waited another hour and then a nurse came to get Darry. He reappeared with Two-Bit, shirtless under his jacket, a large dressing bandaged around him. Darry wasn't quite holding him up, but Two-Bit wouldn't have been walking without him. His eyes looked even more glazed, if that was possible.

He lay on the back seat of the Chevy, giggling, as Darry backed out of the space and drove us home. I was in front this time, but Two-Bit was thinking about the journey in.

"Gonna tell Stevie you an' me have been here, Tink. Back seat of the Chev – " He broke off and retched and Darry swung over to the side of the street, leaping out to open the back door. By some miracle, Two-Bit rolled far enough and hurled hard enough that it didn't land in the car.

"Ow. Fuck. Ow," he groaned

Darry groaned too. "Tell me you didn't just bust those fuckin' stitches!"

Two-Bit prodded his side experimentally. "Don't think so." He half sat up. "I feel better actually. Good stuff they give you in there."

Darry rolled his eyes. "You probably just chucked the painkillers up. And how did you score any, anyway, what with you being shit faced an' all?"

"I was real polite to the nurse. Nurses love me on account of I'm such a brave boy."

"You done puking?" was Darry's weary response and he started up the engine again when Two-Bit said yes. I turned around and fixed Two-Bit with a glare.

"Spill. What happened with you and Campbell an' what's it got to do with Steve?"

He closed his eyes, lying down again, but I caught him peeking and glared some more.

"Campbell keyed the Plymouth a little. Because he's an asshole. I went after him and he got mouthy about Steve being gone, is all." He blinked as I waited him out. He rubbed his chin. "Aw, you don't wanna hear it, Tink, the guy's a douche. I put him right."

"At which point he knifed you?" my voice was hard.

Two-Bit winced as we went over a bump, his arm going across his middle. "He got lucky. You see him, he'll have a limp - if he's walkin' at all, I stomped his..._equipment_. Nah, forget that, you don't oughta see him at all. You see him around, you go the other way, Tink, okay?"

"Why? What's he saying?"

"Stuff. Stupid stuff. Stupid stuff he got off stupid people. Steve ain't no baby killer an' Campbell won't be sayin' that again in a hurry." He tried to inspect his knuckles with bleary eyes.

I felt like someone had slapped me.

"Steve ain't even out of Basic Training yet, he didn't wanna go," I stuttered.

"Evie." Darry put his hand on my arm. "We know. What people say, it ain't a reflection on Steve."

I put my hand to my mouth. "It's so unfair. It's just _fucking _unfair!" I turned around again. "Tell me you kicked him hard enough that he won't be able to jack off for months?"

"Yup. Pretty low, that, doin' that to a fellow man. But I did." Two-Bit gave me a shaky thumbs up, still holding his middle with the other hand.

"I think we should probably not tell Soda." Darry's voice was firm. "He'll want to kill Campbell."

I nodded. Two-Bit agreed, with another wince.

Darry asked him if he wanted to go home or back to his house.

"Or mine," I offered.

"Yeah? Thanks, Tink. No offense, big guy, but she's got a spare bed and that beats your couch. I don't wanna worry my mom, for a day or so."

We unloaded Two-Bit in the same way he'd got out of the hospital, Darry steering him up the steps and into the house. He was pale now, the pain obviously getting to him, and we put him in the big bedroom.

I hadn't changed the sheets since Ponyboy slept over, but I didn't think Two-Bit would object. Darry frowned at him when he rolled onto the bed with a groan.

"You sure about this?" he asked me. I nodded.

"Do you think _that_ –" I pointed at the dresser, surprising him, " – is the kind of wood you can paint over?"

"What do you mean? Oh, is it varnished and sealed? Nah, you could sand that and paint it, easy enough." Darry poked at the drawers. "Why?"

I told him I was thinking of switching rooms, moving into this one myself. But I wanted to make a few changes. I hesitated. "Unless, you think...Steve wouldn't like it?"

Darry shrugged. "Well, you wanna be asking Soda, not me. But as far as the work goes, it's easy enough. We can give you a hand."

"Yup," Two-Bit piped up, from his prone position, eyes shut. "Put a paint brush in my hand. I'm yours."

"Yeah. Maybe tomorrow, Two-Bit, okay?" I rolled my eyes and we left him to sleep.

He slept for about four hours, then I heard him crashing about in the bathroom around midnight. And again before dawn, this time in the kitchen.

"The hell you doin'?" I yawned.

"Sorry, Tink, I was thirsty."

I told him to go lie down, supplied him with a whole jug of water and stumbled back to bed. It was like having Jay back again. Even the part where I had to get up, get ready for work and he snored on.

I called home at lunchtime, to make sure he was alive. Marian came into the office as I was finishing up the call. She heard just enough to make more questions inevitable.

"How bad is he?" She seemed horrified that I had yet another friend in trouble.

I told her what had happened and why. "Sometimes, I think you must wonder why you employed me," I sighed, stifling another yawn. "My life is one long train wreck."

"Nah." She waved my comment away. "But you associate with plenty."

I swung by the grocery store on the way home, because I knew I didn't have enough food in the house to keep Two-Bit from starvation. I was stowing the various items when there was a knock at the door.

"Hi, Sweet Pea." Marian grinned at me. "I was thinking, you maybe wanna take a day tomorrow? If your friend is still hurtin'..."

I blinked in surprise. I'd stretched our friendship pretty far already, I thought, with the time I'd taken off to look after Jay. I said that I didn't think I would need to, but I thanked her. I was a little surprised that she'd shown up, to be honest. I offered her a drink.

Two-Bit appeared in the kitchen door as I poured Marian a beer.

"Well, I guess I don't gotta ask if you're the one got into trouble." Marian surveyed his bruised face.

He cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed. "It's nothin'."

"Siddown and stop trying to be a hero," I said, pulling out a chair for him.

"I'm okay, really." He eased onto the chair all the same. Marian winced as he held his side. Two-Bit repeated his claim to be okay.

I snorted. "Don't tell me that. I was there. You want a beer?"

"Here." Marian pushed her glass towards him. I looked at her in surprise. She shook herself. "Sorry, Sweet Pea, I can't stay, I just realized. But y'know, what I said, about tomorrow."

I walked her to the front door and she asked me how long I thought Two-Bit would be around. I told her I didn't know, but just as long as he needed to rest up. She nodded thoughtfully. I wondered if she had an issue with him staying with me, although it was more the kind of judgement I'd expect from Sarah, not her.

"You got mail, by the look of it," Marian said, pointing to the mailbox. I'd forgotten to check as I hauled in the groceries. But I ran down and snatched up the envelopes, ripping open the one with Steve's writing.

I grinned at her. "I can go see him!"


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** **Josefin's question prompted a reminder - Frank Campbell was left in charge of the Shepard gang, when Tim went away. We last saw Campbell beating up Trey, when Evie dragged Two-Bit and Steve to intervene. So, they had a little history. **

* * *

_**Late March 1967...**_

Bus to Oklahoma City, then another bus to Lawton. Nothing to it. But the way the butterflies were whirling around in my stomach, it was a wonder I didn't puke on both rides.

In the city, a whole crowd of women got on. I figured they were all like me. All with someone they were desperate to see, to hold. I wondered how far some of them had traveled, for a twenty four hour leave that – Steve had warned me – could still be cancelled if their guys didn't do whatever it was they were supposed to, exactly right.

But better that I spent the hours on the bus, than he ate into that precious day, travelling home.

A pregnant chick sat next to me, nodded hello. She offered me a stick of gum.

"Keeps me from feelin' sick. At least, that's the theory." She rolled her eyes. "Basic or AIT?"

"Huh?"

"Your guy. He finishing Basic, or AIT?"

"Neither. I mean, he's doin' Basic, but it didn't finish yet. This is a day's leave I'm goin' for. Twenty four hours. He gets finished in a couple of weeks." And they still hadn't told them what AIT they were getting. _Not combat, not front line, please. Please._

"Ah." She cracked her gum. "So he ain't takin' the leave? Yeah, Jackson did the same."

I stared. "What?"

"You goin' t'Lawton for the day. Means he ain't gonna take his leave at the end of Basic? Let it add up. Then they take it off the TDY." When I looked unsure, she explained. "_Tour of Duty_. The two years? They can save up their leave, do other stuff too, to get the overall time shorter."

_No_, my mind screamed. _He would come home. If he gets a two week leave, he would come home. He just wanted to see me now, is all, it don't mean he won't see me in two weeks as_ _well..._

I shrugged. "Dunno. Guess I'll find out soon enough."

She moved, uncomfortable in her seat.

"Um. If you're expecting, won't that make your husband ineligible?" I asked. It seemed like all rules were off, as far as topics of conversation went. She'd jumped right into my business, after all.

She smiled. "Oh, you'd think so, huh? Nah, 'cause this is our second and he already had a deferment for the first, back when that counted. 'Side's Jackson was outta work, so he's making more money now. It can't be a 'hardship deferment' if we're better off on Army pay."

"Is that true?" I sounded stupid to my own ears. Sounded naive and ignorant and...plain dumb.

She shrugged. "Fuckin' Army."

Yeah.

We got off the bus and I was one of the last, because most of the other women pushed forwards. Through the windows I could see half-people with no heads, lots of arms embracing. A whole sea of khaki.

I had a moment's panic. What if he wasn't there? What if his pass had been cancelled? How long would I have to wait for the bus back, retrace my journey?

But, as I came down the steps, I saw Steve push himself off the wall and then I was in his arms and everything was okay. Everything tilted back into place and I realized the whole world had been off balance while I didn't see him.

"Christ, you smell good," Steve said, lifting me up and burying his face in my neck. When he let me down I stepped back and looked him over.

"Wow."

He pulled an expectant face at my assessment of his uniform. "C'mon. Let's hear it."

"Did I say anything bad? I said, 'wow', 'wow' is a good thing. You look..."

"Like a dick."

I laughed. "Well, you don't look like no North side greaser. But I can dig khaki." Truthfully, I could care less what clothes he was wearing. But, _his hair_. Oh, I wanted his hair back the way it should be.

Around us, couples were dispersing up and down the street, the few people who weren't meeting soldiers hurrying off about their business. Steve pulled me in for a kiss.

"You hungry?" he asked me. I said I didn't care if I never ate again, I just wanted to be with him. He grinned and pulled me up the street, his arm tight around me.

We passed a couple of bars, full of uniforms and laughing broads, some cheap looking stores and so many tattoo parlors I lost count, most with guys lining up out the doors. Steve turned us off the main street into the lot of a motel, guiding me up the stairs to the second floor and unlocking the door of one of the rooms.

"You already checked in?" I asked, looking around and noticing a couple of things, like a fifth of booze in a paper bag, that he must have left here.

"You kidding? These places are like gold dust. I had to put the money down last week and I still nearly had to clock a guy to get the key earlier." He locked the door and laughed when he turned around and saw me already lying on the furthest bed, with my arms behind my head and a smile on my face.

His tie was gone before he got to me, and I bounced up on my knees to undo his shirt buttons as he kissed me, pulling up my top and tossing it aside on the other bed. And then he made me laugh out loud, because he took off his own shirt and hung it carefully on the back of the chair next to the dresser.

He grimaced. "If you knew the shit they give you for trashing these fuckin' threads. This -" he pointed at his belt buckle as he undid it " - I swear I spend more time polishing this than I do cleaning my teeth."

I said, "Ew!" and pretended to shift away from him, but he was quick to catch me. And maybe the rest of his uniform wasn't hung up quite as neat.

Six weeks. It felt like six _months _since I'd touched him and felt his hands on me. Forever. We loved each other hungrily, the world condensing into the space needed for two bodies, everything else disappearing.

"Christ, I missed you, babe."

"I love you so much."

Eventually, Steve pushed up on his elbows, stroking my hair, kissing me gently as our pulses calmed down.

"What happened here?" I touched a fading bruise high on his cheekbone, then one on his arm, up by his shoulder.

He looked at his arm, surprised, like he hadn't known the bruise was there and shook his head slightly. "Nothin'. Just knocks from training."

"Is it...horrible?" I had no way to verbalize what I wanted to know.

"Nah. It's annoying and you don't never get enough sleep, but it's okay. Didn't I tell you that?"

Steve's letters were short and without details. Everything was always okay. The other guys, the food, the way things were going. '_Okay_'. Between his non information and my inability to ask for specifics, I figured I would never know exactly what he was going through.

I looked over his dog tags, which hadn't made it off his neck in our hurry to get undressed. I ran my fingers over the letters embossed on them.

"So, '_Randle. Steven E._' What have you got '_No preference_' about?" I teased.

Steve went still for a second. Then he shrugged. "Church. It's for if you got religion or not," he said lightly, rolling to one side and reaching for the bottle on the night stand. "You want a drink, babe?"

"Wait a second. What do you mean, if you got religion or not? What the hell difference does that make?"

"Exactly." Steve swung out of bed, padded to the bathroom and returned with the glass they provided for toothbrushes. He swore under his breath. "I forgot to get you some Coke. There's a machine outside, ain't there?" He dragged on his pants, checking the pockets for change and went to the door, but I was freaked by his obvious change of subject and called his name. He paused with his hand on the door handle.

"Shit, Evie. It just means if I die over there, then I don't give a fuck who says what over my grave, all right? Let it alone." He went out onto the balcony.

Oh.

I folded the sheets back and dived under, suddenly cold. I pulled the sheet up around me as I sat back against the headboard. The door opened again, but Steve was looking over his shoulder and yelling obscenities down the balcony to someone called Martinez, and he didn't look at me until he was back inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

He put down the four bottles he was juggling and went back to lock the door.

"Wouldn't put it past that crazy fucker to try and get in." He smiled as he said it and I marveled at the fact that he could go from mentioning his own death to joking around with one of his buddies.

"Friend of yours?"

He shrugged. "He's okay. We bunk next to each other."

"Is his wife here too?"

Steve snorted. "Uh. No. I think he's got more of a..._business arrangement_ goin' on."

"Here?" I squeaked. What kind of motel had he brought me to? I looked at the sheets with a more suspicious eye. Steve was laughing at me as he cracked the bottle, pouring vodka and topping it with Coke.

"You don't usually pick vodka," I commented, as he then tipped the bottle to his lips. I guessed there had been only one glass in the bathroom. He swallowed and winked at me.

"And I ain't drinking it now." He took a swig of Coke, followed by another shot of the liquor. When he saw I didn't understand, he explained. "We ain't supposed to drink on this leave. I figured vodka was the safest. Plus, _you_ like it, babe. I got it for you." The sugary tone of the last comment was obviously facetious and I pulled a face at him.

I shifted over so he could climb in next to me and handed him the glass. "We'll trade off. Stop drinking out the bottle like some wino."

"Was that your first official wifely nag?" he asked, draping one arm around me and kissing my head.

"Oh, like this," I held up my hand and waggled my ring finger, "makes such a difference."

He nodded. "True. You never needed it before, to get on my case about anything."

For my answer to that, I snatched the glass back and drained it. Steve laughed and grabbed it out my hand, dropping it on the night table and tickling me, while I shrieked. We froze after a little while though, as a furious pounding noise echoed through the room.

Steve snorted. "Jeez. They'll be coming through the wall in a minute." I was a little embarrassed, wondering if we'd been that noisy. I straightened up, straddling Steve's lap and pushing the headboard experimentally.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Checking to make sure no one can hear us!"

He smiled at me. "You are real cute, babe, y'know that? Who cares if anyone hears us?"

"I do!"

"Well, whadd'ya think they think we're doing, in a motel with the curtains closed on a weekday afternoon?"

"I dunno. I just don't want to think people are listening."

He was chuckling, laughing at me. The thumping noise next door stopped. Steve made googly eyes at me. "That wasn't very impressive. But maybe it's been a while." I slapped his shoulder lightly, told him to stop talking about the couple next door.

"Again with the nagging. This being married jag sure ain't what I thought it would be..."

"Don't piss me off," I warned, dramatically. "I have access to your bank account now."

Steve shifted me against his lap. "Did you check my army pay went in? I ain't taking much, just enough to get by, told 'em to send the rest as allotments."

I nodded. He poured another glass and took a gulp.

"Did you check in with Hollings too?"

"Yesterday. He said he's still waiting to hear."

Steve took a deep breath. "I hope she didn't skip the state." He made an effort to talk about something else. "Soda wrote me that Two-Bit got in some kind of shit with Campbell."

Dammit, out of everything he had to ask? _That_ was what he wanted to know? It was easy to keep the truth from him, because he was away. Keeping Soda out of the full loop had been a little harder, but whatever story Two-Bit had made up seemed to have worked, especially if Soda had been amused enough to pass it on to Steve. I pulled a dismissive face.

"Oh, it was so stupid. I think they were both too loaded to hit straight. It was luck either of 'em connected. Two-Bit said Campbell keyed the Plymouth. As if anyone could tell. Well, maybe you could. He won't have fixed it up, you can look when you come home, huh?" I chattered on, but I noticed Steve twitch a little.

I took the drink from him and sipped some, framing the question in my mind as I put the glass down carefully.

"Steve. You _are_ coming home on leave, before AIT?"

As soon as he started to speak, I could tell by the way he screwed up his eyes a little that he was going to say something I didn't want to hear and he damn well knew it.

"If I let the leave accrue, it comes off the final tally – Ow!" He broke off as I hit him on the chest repeatedly.

"Damn you! Why didn't you tell me? You were supposed to come home for two whole weeks, that's what you said."

"Evie, babe. Stop, _Evie_!" Steve grabbed my hands as I battered him. I was perilously near tears as those two weeks of having him home, in our own bed, our own house, evaporated in front of me. He pulled me to lie against him, still holding both my hands in one of his, as he rubbed my back with the other. "Darlin', I know it sucks, but these guys here, the NCOs who've been over there, they know all these ways to buck the system. If you get enough time built up, it means you come right home. If you got less than a certain number of days left when your tour ends, you can blow off any time owing Stateside, you dig?"

I hated that he made sense, but I did understand. If he hadn't used up his two years when his time in Vietnam was over, he'd have to serve somewhere back here and that would be awful, knowing he was somewhere in the country but not home yet.

"But I miss you so much," I complained, like a whiny brat.

"I get it, babe." He kissed me. "I promise. I get it. I'm just tryin' for an early-out."

"What about after AIT?" When he was due a period of longer leave too. I knew that. The pause went on too long. "Steve?" I sat up, facing him.

"I'mma try for extra training instead. That'd be more weeks adding up, before I haveta to go overseas. If I could get crypto, I'd be sweet, they go up to a freaking year's training, but that's a no go."

"What?" I had no idea what he was talking about, except he just mentioned something to do with Superman.

"Crypto, it's like the secret codes and shit. Special machines. I could do it, I'm good enough at the math. You gotta have a squeaky clean record though, so that's never gonna happen. I think it says, 'no family or close friends with criminal records' too. Ha. That's a fuckin' joke, like stealing hubs or a little public drunkenness means you can't be trusted with state secrets. Disqualifies everyone from our neighborhood, huh?"

"So you're just gonna do as much as you can here, and then that means you can come home quicker from Vietnam?"

He reached his hand around the back of my neck, pulling me in. "Anything I can, babe. Anything that gets me back to you quicker."

xxXxx

Eventually, neither of us could ignore Steve's stomach grumbling and we dressed and went in search of food. I found it strange that nearly every man I saw was in uniform, but to Steve, of course, it was no novelty.

There was a steak house just over the way from the motel and we went inside. It was early for dinner, but we'd missed lunch so it didn't stop us ordering a feast. Steve attacked the food like he was starving.

"They feeding you at all?" I asked.

"Huh?" He looked up from his plate. "Oh. Yeah. Not as good as this though, and the C rations are shit for lunch, plus, I usually trade my chocolate for more smokes." He made an effort to sip his water slowly. "There's a guy with a stopwatch in the mess hall. You gotta eat fast or go without."

I stared at him. What was the point of that? Why would that make anyone a better soldier? I watched as he dove back into his steak.

We wandered up the street a ways, afterwards, just to get some air, turning down a little side street that was quieter. One of the stores had toys in the window. There was a cute little stuffed monkey with a blue shirt on, for whatever reason a monkey needed a shirt.

"Looks like he works in the DX," I joked. Steve turned to me.

"Shall I buy it, for Jay? You can give it him, when you see _her_." Always 'she' or 'her'. He had a real problem using Becky's name. I told him I thought it was a cool idea and we bought the monkey and Steve christened it 'Wrench'. We were still chuckling as we came out the store and turned back towards the motel.

Steve suddenly let go of me and stood up real straight, saluting a guy with gray hair who walked past us. He saluted back and once he was gone, Steve relaxed.

I felt weird, like I'd seen something that didn't make sense, something out of a story come to life. It took me a second to look at Steve and see him as Steve again, my Steve, the old Steve.

Despite his being away and my fears about that, and the uniform, all the stuff he'd talked about, I think that was the first time I understood for real that he was a soldier now.

* * *

**I don't want to bore anyone, but everything Steve talks about I've found in personal stories from Vietnam Vets, including some who were at Fort Sill like Steve****...although he hasn't quite explained the 'early-out' option properly and so Evie doesn't yet fully understand. More later.**

**But the 'no friends or family with criminal records' was true and would have disbarred him from certain roles! And the trading for cigarettes in the C rations and his clothes being mailed home, like in a previous chapter. I have tried to make Steve's experience as authentic as possible. **


	13. Chapter 13

A week after I visited Steve down in Lawton, he wrote that they'd been given their AIT assignments.

"'_Self propelled battery'._" I called to Ponyboy, who was over, having been sent by Darry to sweep up leaves and mow the lawn and do anything else that the yard needed. "What does that mean?"

He came up and peered over my shoulder, to see what Steve had written. "_M107_. Oh. It's, uh...It's a type of tank."

I'd known that was coming, in my heart. No safe desk job. Artillery. Why would Fate suddenly decide to cut Steve a break now, when every other thing that happened screwed him – _us_ – over.

"Guess he never drove one of those before," said Pony, trying for a light tone and missing it by a mile.

Steve had written that, out of the guys he'd been training with, most of the enlisted men were being sent to other bases in the States or Europe, leaving Vietnam for the draftees. The National Guard – mostly Socy boys with daddies who had connections – all got to go home.

'_A few of 'em had the guts to look embarrassed', _he wrote_, 'the lucky bastards_.' Yeah. I could call them a few names too. I still wished Steve was one of them.

Especially because he didn't get any special training course. No extra time to cut off his TDY. So now he definitely wasn't taking his post-AIT leave, he was adding it to his savings bank of time, in order to take it off that far away end date.

In my darkest moments, I wondered if Tommy Reed's brother had bargained away that last leave period. If his family wished that he hadn't, when for him coming home early from Vietnam meant coming home in a box.

xxXxx

"If this is Soda – _at last_ – he'd better have beer in both hands and smokes in his pockets, or he ain't no friend of mine," Two-Bit joked as the front door rattled. We'd been painting, walls and ceilings and doors, all weekend. Everyone had dropped in at one time or another to help, but Two-Bit had been there the longest and had the paint splatters to prove it.

I took Jo with me when I bought the paint. We chose some real groovy colors and I even found new fabrics for curtains and bedspreads. Slowly but surely I was dragging the house into 1967. The big bedroom was the first room I tackled. I switched the furniture around and Two-Bit found me a few pieces – junk came in all kinds of surprising forms, including brand new night stands, apparently. He swore up and down that none of it was hot, so I had to believe him.

I liked the bedroom now. But it wasn't the cure I'd hoped it would be. I didn't sleep any better. I wrapped Steve's t shirt around a pillow and held onto it, trying to persuade myself that it still smelled like him, after three months of him being gone. Three months. Shit, it felt so long, but sounded so small when I thought about what still stretched ahead.

Right now we were painting the front room. I'd matched the paint to the colors on the pillows that Jo had given us and I was making every wall a different shade of purple.

Two-Bit went to open the door for Soda and I was surprised to hear him call my name almost immediately. But the strained tone made more sense when I put my paintbrush down and leaned my head out in the hallway. Because it wasn't Soda.

It was Becky. She had the stroller with her at the bottom of the porch steps. She looked a little spacey, but that wasn't unusual for her.

"Steve around?" She was squinting suspiciously at Two-Bit, who opened his mouth and said,

"Nope, he's – "

" – not here right now," I cut across him and finished the sentence as I got to the door.

"Can you take the kid 'til Steve gets back?" Becky seemed irritated. I said yes immediately and if she thought my response was too quick she didn't show it. Honestly, she just seemed glad to offload Jay. I nudged Two-Bit and he hopped down the steps and lifted the stroller up to the front door.

"How long you goin' for?" I asked.

She shrugged, unconvincingly."Coupla weeks." _Like last time?_ I wondered.

I reached for the stroller. "Okay, no problem." I pulled it into the entryway. My heart was beating hard but I stayed real cool and acted like I'd just thought of something. "Oh, hold up." She'd been leaving without a word to Jay, who was awake and gazing around. "If he's gonna stay here again, can you do this now, like we talked about before...?" I darted through to the front room, grabbing the folder from the drawer. "You remember? Just in case the kid needs the doctor or something? You know how pissy they can be," I jabbered.

Becky frowned. "What...?"

"Look," I opened the document and pointed to the most obvious sentence with Steve's name. "It just says that Steve's his dad and you're happy for him to have responsibility. That you're okay with that. You are happy about it, ain'tcha?" _You're leaving him here again, without a backward glance, you bitch. _

"Well, I guess..." She was still frowning.

"Covers me too, y'know, 'cause Steve and me are married now. And then we can pay any doctor's bills, or whatever." I beamed at her and held out a pen.

Covering the bills seemed to sway it. She signed.

It was all I could do not to slam the door in her face and lock her out. When she'd disappeared down the road, I pulled Jay out the stroller and held him close, kissing him. He was so much bigger. He had on the sweater with the little blue truck and it was kind of tight on him.

Two-Bit smiled slowly. "What did you just do?" He whistled appreciatively.

"You heard me," I answered him innocently. "I asked her quite clear, if she was happy about Jay living here and Steve having responsibility, before she signed."

"You never said he was gone in the Army."

"She never asked."

xxXxx

I ran into the office and told the lady at the desk that the document was real important and I wanted Mr. Hollings to see it as soon as he could.

She smiled at me. "I'll let him know as soon as he returns from lunch."

I felt relieved. Like the next stage of what we needed was under way. As I turned to go, she said,

"Oh, Mrs Randle," like she'd just remembered something. "I was going to check with Mr. Hollings, but since you're here right now... Do you know if your husband wanted _this_ mailed to him, or held here, or left with you?" She held up a different folder. She knew all the details, of course, where Steve was and why. She probably typed everything Mr. Hollings did for us. She was explaining more, with a smile, "There's a small charge for us to hold it for him, but I don't know if we explained that, what with Mr. Randle issuing instructions from Fort Sill."

I asked her what she was talking about and she told me, with a gentle smile.

I heard my voice from far away and I was surprised how calm I sounded. "Oh, I guess I can take it, keep it at home for him."

And I walked out of the office holding Steve's will in my hand.

xxXxx

Becky's two weeks had almost rolled by. If I'd thought it was hard juggling time when Steve and I were doing it, it was even harder on my own. Jay was nine months old, he crawled everywhere, got into anything he could and was crankier, I thought, than when we'd had him before. He got real mad if you stopped him doing whatever he had set his little heart on doing.

The only part that was easier was that Jay seemed to sleep all night now. On the other hand, he was awake pretty much all day, which meant I couldn't take my eyes off him for a second.

I hated to do it to Marian, but I dropped to only working half a week. I couldn't ask any more babysitting time from Ma. For one thing Sarah was going to have her baby any day now. Two-Bit and Soda stepped up again, Soda taking shifts that fitted around my work days whenever he could, while Two-Bit paid some part time kid, or even closed the junk store for a day so he could mind Jay. Between us, we coped.

I was walking back from Ma's early one evening – it wasn't cold, just cool, like Spring was happening for real at last - and I was laughing at Jay, who was shrieking with excitement because we had just seen a cat, when I saw two figures coming down the sidewalk towards me. I stopped.

_Tim Shepard?_

I'm not sure I would have recognized him right off, if he hadn't been with Curly. Aside from the fact that I never expected to see him, on that street, on that day. At all.

Tim looked pointedly at the stroller, at Jay, and smiled lazily. "I ain't gonna say nothin' about 'surprises', sweetheart," he drawled.

"How..? I thought...?"

"Thought they sent me straight from the jail to the jungle? Nah. Don't work like that." He shrugged. He seemed more real. Not taller, but bigger, in the shoulders, in the arms. More solid. Which was saying something for a presence like Tim Shepard. It was the buzz cut that really made the difference of course, took away some of the similarities to Curly, who still wore his hair long and inexpertly greased. There was nothing to take your eye from the scar on Tim's face. Nothing but his own dark, intense eyes anyway, and they'd always done that job.

He was wearing a T shirt and jeans but he looked out of place, like he was in costume. He shrugged again, in answer to my mumbled questions.

"You don't get a straight two-year draft, with the deal I took. I'm lookin' at three years minimum. They found plenty of shit for me to shovel here first. I been over to Fort Polk in Louisiana, building stuff so other suckers can tear it down. They figure I did enough of that now. I'mma ship out to Vietnam after this leave is up."

"Oh." I hadn't known all that. He waved Curly away and I watched the way he did just exactly what Tim said, sloping off to lean on a fence post a little way along the street, lighting up a weed.

"I heard about Randle."

This time I shrugged. I couldn't trust myself to be flippant and I didn't want to be serious.

"What'd he get?"

I hated that I knew the answer was _M107 armored artillery_.

"He'll be sweet, then." When I looked skeptical, Tim smirked. "Big fuckers, ain't they. You can't be goin' deep in the jungle in one of those babies, you gotta stick to the roads. He won't be down range much." I hated that I knew that_ 'down range' _meant on the front line_._

He had no reason to lie to me. No reason to make me feel better. Maybe he was telling the truth.

I made a quick decision.

"Wouldn't matter to some people, if he did get hurt," I said cattily, with a quick glance at Curly. He didn't seem to be able to hear us.

"How's that?"

"Your buddy Campbell," I said, and even as I heard the words come out my mouth, I knew what I was doing, what I was signing Campbell up for. But, between what he said about Steve and what he did to Two-Bit, I honestly didn't care. It wasn't something I would ever be proud of, and I never would have considered it without this unexpected opportunity, but I suddenly saw a way to right what I considered a sizeable wrong. "Said he thought Steve was a baby killer. Said anyone going to Vietnam was."

"Is that right?"

I nodded. "He cut Two-Bit, for defending Steve."

Tim froze. "Bad?"

"Fifteen stitches." I demonstrated a line across my belly. "He didn't tell you?"

"He did not." Tim was looking thoughtfully at Curly.

"Probably because you're one too, huh? A baby killer?"

"I get it, sweetheart. You can stop now." His voice was like ice. I wondered if I'd gone too far. Too bad. I was still the girl who took on Judy Milton. Who had Ricky sent down. I was a product of the North Side, just as much as any of the guys.

Tim transferred his attention to Jay, regarding him steadily. Jay blinked back at him. And then he broke out a gummy grin. Tim twitched, his eyes widening for a second before they slid over to me.

"This ain't yours, I hear."

"No. This is Steve's son."

"Well, ain't that a thing."

I shrugged, uncomfortable for some reason and I fussed with Jay's blanket even though it didn't need it.

"You married broads get any time off, for good behavior? Like, time to go for a drink, maybe?"

"Not so much." Of course I could if I wanted to. I had my choice of babysitters, for evenings. But there was no way in hell I was going to be seen out on the town with Tim Shepard.

Tim shot me a brief, icy smile. "Okay then."

I told him I hoped that he enjoyed the rest of his leave. Seemed like a stupid thing to say, with Vietnam hanging at the end of it.

"I will. Me and Curly got a little bit of business to take care of first." He looked over at his brother again, nodded to him to come back. Then, as he turned away, he said, like an afterthought, "You know the Curtis boys, right?"

I nodded warily.

He dropped his voice. "Probably a good idea if the little one don't go play poker tonight, at Terry Jones's pad. I got a feeling it ain't that lucky of a night."

I didn't watch him walk off with Curly, I went as fast as I could in the other direction, turning down Archer Street and practically running by the time I reached North St Louis.

When I got to Soda's house, Pony was getting ready to go out. I quickly told Darry and Soda what Tim had said.

Soda flared, immediately, "He better not touch Pony." Christ, if he was fired up over this, what would he have done, if he ever found out about Campbell badmouthing Steve? I preferred that Tim took care of it.

I shook my head about Soda's comment. "Well, Tim don't want Pony involved, else why'd he tell me to warn him?"

Darry called Ponyboy into the front room. He smiled hello at me and then realized something was up, when Darry demanded to know what his plans for the night were.

"Play some cards, with Terry and Bud, that crowd, maybe cruise The Ribbon, I dunno..."

"Any of them got a beef with the Shepard gang?"

"What? No." Pony shook his head, confused. Darry looked unconvinced.

"Who else is in that crowd?"

"Uh...Bryon said he might swing by later, after his date."

Darry fixed Pony with a death stare that made me swallow, never mind Pony. "Bryon that lives with Jennings? So what you really mean is, you were gonna party with Mark Jennings, even though I specifically told you to stay away from that little creep?" Darry clicked his fingers, like a light had come on. "And there we have the reason Tim's involved, for sure."

"Tim? _Shepard_? Back in town?" Pony gaped.

Darry folded his arms. "You're grounded."

"What? Why? No way, Darry..."

I wanted to stay and find out more, but I really needed to get Jay to bed. He was fussing because neither Soda nor Darry had paid him any attention and he was fighting the straps in his stroller, wriggling to get out. Soda helped me bump the stroller down the porch steps and then insisted on walking with me the whole way home.

As we turned the corner, there was a cab pulling up outside the house. Someone in uniform climbed out.

Soda yelled in delight and sprinted away from me. And he rocketed into Steve, hugging him for all he was worth.

* * *

**A/N: I know. I sent Tim into the Army last time we saw him, in 'Our Kind'. And then I remembered he need****ed to be around to beat up Bryon...but, I swear, the fact that delinquents were given longer tours of duty than the usual 2 year draft was pure Vietnam research that fell in my lap. So he could have been home on leave at just the right time. I love it when a plan comes together! ;)**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: So, I feel like I haven't said thanks for a while, to anon guest reviews. I appreciate you all! :)**

* * *

_**May 1967...**_

"_Forty eight hour pass, babe. What else would I do with the time?" _

After Soda got done dancing around like a madman, while Steve kissed me until I lost my breath, we got the news out of Steve that some last minute screw-up with instructors changing over had given everyone on his course a pair of twenty four hour leave passes squashed together. He'd hopped a bus right away.

"I would've come to Lawton again," I protested, thinking of those hours he'd spent travelling.

"Same difference, by the time I'd've called. And I wanted to come home. It's all good, long as I get back by tomorrow night. Pity the poor bastards who live too far away to get home, huh?" He was untangling the straps on the stroller to get Jay out.

"Drive you back though," Soda said, with a wink. "Shave a little time off the journey?"

Steve nodded happily as he hugged Jay and commented on how big he'd gotten.

I had a moment's panic as we went in. What if he hated what I'd done to the house? He laughed, though, asked if I'd bought out the paint store, and seemed happy enough.

"I should leave you guys..." The thought suddenly occurred to Soda, but Steve said no – though he shot a look at me, to check. I held my hands up, I knew he'd want to talk with his friend.

"Kick you out in a while, buddy." Steve winked, sitting on the couch and putting Jay on his blanket. As Steve unlaced his - real shiny - shoes, Jay crawled to the coffee table and used it to drag himself up onto his feet to get to Wrench, the monkey Steve had bought him. Steve's eyes widened. "What the hell?"

"Oh, yeah, he does that now." I smiled. Jay wobbled and sat down hard when he transferred both hands to the toy. "But not for long," I added.

Taking off his shoes had started something and Steve yanked on his tie too. He headed out the room. "I'm getting out of this gear..._oh_."

I motioned for Soda to watch Jay and went after Steve. He was staring in the door of his old room. I had the travel crib set up in there and Jay's stuff out on the dresser. "I moved..._uh_, we moved...I put your stuff in here." I turned him to the bigger bedroom. "Is that okay? You said it was -"

Steve glanced around. The room – Eddie's old room - really didn't look anything like it used to. He rubbed his face thoughtfully. "Yeah. It's okay. It's just weird...Nah, 's'okay, babe. Looks good in here." He smiled and kissed me. I showed him where his clothes were and left him to get changed.

He complained that his T shirt had shrunk, when he came back through. It hadn't. He'd changed shape – fourteen weeks of whatever the Army had him doing had given him bigger muscles. I was almost frightened to blink, in case he wasn't really there, in front of me. I settled on another hug as I handed him a beer and told Soda that his was on the end table. He was lying on the floor, building a tower of bricks for Jay, but Jay crawled over to Steve and pulled himself upright, using Steve's legs to hold onto. Steve picked him up.

"That's nice. Ignore my creation, just 'cause your daddy showed up," Soda pretended to gripe. He scooted back to grab his beer.

Jay launched himself off Steve's lap and crawled along the couch to me.

Steve gave a snort of laughter. "Well, I guess I ain't that much of a novelty."

"He's tired," I explained. "I oughta put him to bed." Jay burrowed into my neck and stuck his thumb in his mouth, a sure sign that he was fading. I went into the kitchen and set a bottle to heat, then got him into his PJs. Ma would have a fit if she knew I skipped his bath, but I figured he could have one in the morning.

The steady hum of voices let me know the whole time that Soda and Steve were catching up. I heard the odd technical sounding phrase to do with engines and mechanical stuff, so I figured Steve was explaining his latest knowledge.

"...nah, maybe two rounds a minute. It ain't fast. The fuckers are yay big, so it don't hold more'n two anyways. That's where the M548 comes in, get the rest of the ammo to 'em –" Steve broke off as I came into the front room. They both looked at me sheepishly. There was obviously some kind of guy code going on, 'don't let the little woman know about the nasty stuff'.

I reminded Soda that this was now officially bedtime and he was to stay quiet and not get Jay all worked up. He rolled his eyes, but it was a perfectly legitimate warning; he and Two-Bit were both inclined to play way past the point where Jay got wore out and cranky. Steve held out his arms to take Jay while I fetched the bottle.

"Evie, babe, you mind if the guys come over?" he called after me.

I said no. I couldn't be that selfish, I knew he would want to see them. I even offered if he wanted to go out with them. He shook his head and rubbed his hand over his hair for emphasis, before he took the bottle from me. Jay grabbed it eagerly.

"So? People'll think you just got out the cooler," Soda said with a smirk, but Steve shook his head. His eyes were on Jay, who was gulping slower and slower as he got sleepy.

"They won't," Steve said quietly. I wondered what had happened on the bus trip. I sent Soda to call the others and I sat and watched Jay fall asleep in Steve's arms.

xxXxx

I think, if I had to say what I liked the most about Darry Curtis, it might be...baked chicken. He already had it cooked at their house and when Soda called, he just grabbed it right out of their stove and made Pony hold the casserole dish in the truck.

Pony was still griping about not being allowed to go out with his friends. Darry had made him call Jones, whoever he was, to warn them that the Shepard boys were on the warpath, so the whole crowd of them moved their poker venue, but he still wouldn't let Pony out to join them.

"How come I'm allowed to visit Steve's house then?" Pony muttered, as we filled Steve in on the drama, while everyone demolished the chicken.

"Because it's a special kind of grounding where you have to be where I can see you," Darry snapped back, "until I know what the hell Tim's problem is."

"He's a maniac, is what," Two-Bit piped up.

Soda snorted. "Yup, an' now he's a maniac who's been taught to kill people more efficiently." Everyone laughed. Nearly everyone.

"_More_ efficiently?" I objected. "Tim never killed anyone before." I'd like to say I had a moment's guilt about Campbell, but I really didn't. I looked around as they all pulled various faces at my comment.

Two-Bit started up,"Well, there was that time..." but he had his story telling voice going, so I just launched a pillow at him. I would probably have to confess to him at some point that I'd squealed on Campbell.

Steve had slipped out of the room and I saw a look of concern dart across Soda's face. He climbed to his feet and followed him. I did the same. Steve was out on the back porch, smoking. I got to the kitchen in time to hear Soda say,

"...no one was thinking that, buddy. I didn't mean nothing by it."

"Well, it's true, ain't it? A hundred fifty pound mortar is a fucking _efficient_ way of killing people."

"_Steve_." Soda was horrified. "Man. It was just a joke about Shepard. It ain't nothing to do with what you gotta do."

Steve looked away, out across the back yard, blowing out a long, slow stream of smoke. "That is what I'mma do, though, buddy. Gonna kill guys who are on the other side before they kill me. That's what it comes down to."

"I know." Soda scuffed the toe of his sneaker on the porch corner post. "I'm sorry."

"Aw, Christ." Steve shook himself. "It ain't your fault. Sap." And he attacked Soda's hair with his knuckles, in that way that tussling seems to replace hugs between guys. Soda retaliated by trying to kick him.

I wished everything was that simple to resolve.

xxXxx

Steve reached out and touched my cheek as we lay facing each other in bed, the silence of the night all around us. "Thank you. For holding onto Jay. For everything."

"What else would I do?" I tried to laugh it off, but he insisted:

"Nah. I'm serious. It means everything to know that things are going okay at home." He let his eyes wander around the room. "Although, this is slightly freaky. I've been imagining you in the other room, my room, all this time."

"That's why I moved." I hated that my voice came out so small. "I couldn't stop wishing you were there."

He smirked. "Oh, yeah? And now you don't give me a second thought?"

I shook my head against the pillow."Now I think about you more." A long heartbeat passed as we stared at each other. I made an effort to switch up the tone to something more cheerful. "What was I wearing?"

"Huh?"

"When you imagined me. What was I wearing? Was it that black lace underwear set...?"

Steve groaned. "_Don't_. It ain't easy, babe. There's 23 other guys sleepin' in that room, y'know."

"How do you...?" I pulled a face. "Y'know, _manage_?"

"Quietly. Real quietly." Steve laughed and kissed me. "Ain't never as good as the real thing though." He ran his hand over my side, like he was memorizing the feel of me.

"What about what I imagine?" I knew that I was bringing the mood down again, but it was important. "Why won't you tell me what you have to do? You told Soda." Well, that was whiny.

He rolled his eyes. "Babe, you even know what an armored vehicle is?"

"Yes! A tank."

"There you go, then."

"No. That don't mean nothing. Please, Steve."

He chewed his lip some, then sighed. "Okay. So you got five in the 'tank', right? The driver, someone to fire it, all that. Then you got another vehicle, the Ammunition Carrier, that follows it around, with eight of us in that. And we do everything else. Haul the ammo, set up the nets, hell, we dig the latrines even. There's a lot of digging in the Army."

"So...basically, you're driving around a huge bomb? Your 'Ammunition Carrier', it's full of bombs..."

"Mortars," he corrected absently. "You can't think of it like that. See, this is why I didn't wanna tell ya. It's all shoot-and-scoot, Evie. We're gone before the bad guys realize we hit 'em."

Yeah. Because the bad guys never win, do they?

xxXxx

It would take all day to get to Fort Sill and back. That was a long time for a nine month old to be in the car. Reluctantly, I'd told Steve that he and Soda had better make the trip on their own.

Steve was getting dressed when Soda turned up the next morning and then, almost right behind him, there was a knock at the door. I left him playing with Jay in the front room as I went to see who it was. My heart leaped into my mouth. _Oh, God, no. Not now._

Becky scowled at me. "You're a goddamn liar!" were the first words out of her mouth. "Where's Randle? 'Cause I heard he's gone in the Army."

"You're early. You said two weeks," I spluttered.

"Is it true, or not?"

"It's true," Steve said, coming up behind me, in uniform. "I'm goin' to Vietnam in a few weeks."

My heart twisted to hear him say it.

"It don't change the fact that I'm his dad," Steve went on. "It don't change any of that. I want him in my life."

"Better see if you come back, first," she spat.

I clenched my fists. Becky smirked and folded her arms. "Get John. And his stuff. I never said _she_ was having him by herself if you're not here."

"Who the hell you think's been looking after him for you?" I demanded, as Soda came out into the entryway, with Jay in his arms.

"Becky," Steve said carefully, "listen to me..."

"I don't gotta listen to anything you say." She reached for Jay. Soda took a step back, but Steve shook his head sadly and motioned for him to put Jay in his stroller.

"Please." I heard a tone in Steve's voice unlike anything I'd ever heard before. "This is real important..."

Becky laughed. "Christ! What the hell do I owe you? One lousy bang is all we had. If I didn't have the kid as a reminder, I'd have forgotten it already. Ain't like it was that good –"

I lunged at her, only to feel Steve's arms wrap around me. He all but dragged me back behind him. "Here, okay. I get it." he said, passing Becky the stroller. "Just hear me, please. This is my kid and he will always have a home here, savvy?"

I turned away, unable to look as she sauntered away down the street.

Nobody said anything until she was out of sight and then Steve snarled a curse and put his fist though the glass of the front door.


	15. Chapter 15

Steve was lucky.

When the glass shattered, I shouted and Soda shouted, while Steve just stared at his hand as it dripped blood. But when we cleaned it up, we found it was mostly just from slicing off the skin across the tops of his two smallest knuckles. There was a cut of about an inch on the side of his hand, but it wasn't too deep and it seemed to hold together with Band Aids.

"Is there a sick-bay you can go to, get it looked at?" I asked, worried about the patchwork of sticking plasters.

"Jeez, no, you gotta stay out of there. It ain't that bad – I had worse in the workshop."

"Or a rumble," Soda added, trying to lighten the mood.

Steve's face clouded for a second. He flexed his hand experimentally. "Does it look like I was fighting? I don't wanna get written up again."

Soda and I both froze and looked slowly over at Steve. "Again?"

He shrugged guiltily.

xxXxx

Now that Jay was gone, there was nothing to stop me going in the car to Fort Sill, except the fact that the front door had a hole in it. Steve went out back to the shed and hauled in a random piece of wood, nailing it over the gap where the glass had been.

"Tell Darry I'm sorry. And make sure you pay him for the glass when he fits it," he told me.

"I'll do it," Soda offered. "No problemo."

"Yeah." Steve turned to me, with a stage whisper. "_Ask Darry_."

As we headed to the car, Soda asked Steve if he wanted to drive, but Steve just looked at him like he was crazy.

"Nah. I wanna sit in the back with Evie."

Soda sighed dramatically, as we all climbed in. "Okay. But can you try not to be too distracting? I gotta keep my mind on the road."

"Hey, we're old married folks now. There won't be nothing distracting going on back here," Steve replied solemnly, goosing me and making me yelp. But he was right. We cuddled up the whole way, kissing some, but mostly just talking quietly, although Steve spelled Soda for a little way, after we stopped to stretch our legs and get drinks.

I promised, once again, to speak with Mr. Hollings and explain the latest with Jay, make sure he was still working on the legal stuff.

"Until we get something legal done, he's only ever gonna be borrowed," Steve said sadly. "I don't want him growing up, not knowing who I am. Even if..." he changed mid-sentence and repeated himself,"I want him to know who I am."

xxXxx

Steve made us leave him a little way from the entrance to the base. He said he didn't want an audience. I hadn't even noticed there was anyone else around.

I discovered that saying goodbye is not one of those things that gets easier with practice.

As we drove away, Soda asked me to light him a weed, but when I did, he sighed and said, "Forget it. I changed my mind."

I smoked about half myself, but mostly I let it burn away through the window. I felt like I barely had the strength to move my hand up to my mouth. I was glad that even though I'd offered to drive some of the way back, Soda had only said maybe if he got tired. I wondered if he'd changed his mind when, right before we hit the highway, he pulled over.

"Pick up your shoes," he said, out of the blue and with reference to nothing.

"What?" I prompted. He was staring out the windshield.

"The last time I saw my mom, she said '_Pick up your shoes'_. And I said, '_Yeah. In a minute_.'" When he turned to me, his eyes were shining. "I was tryin' to think of something important to say to Steve, something better than what I..." He caught his breath.

"Yeah, but, Soda...that wasn't the last thing we said to each other...that ain't the last time we're gonna see Steve."

His lip wobbled and he swallowed hard before he nodded. "I know."

xxXxx

Five hours is a long time to be in a car with just one other person. Maybe it was really a bit less time together, because Soda eventually let me drive and he dozed a little, his head resting awkwardly on the side window. The rest of the time he hardly spoke. I remembered when Steve was arrested and Soda had driven me nuts with his bouncing around. I wished for a little of the bounciness right then, something to distract me from the fact that every mile was taking me further from Steve.

We stopped for something to eat and to use the restrooms, in a diner that had lousy coffee but pretty good fries.

Soda was still subdued. He started talking about making some changes in his life.

"Thought I was happy, working in a gas station, but I think it was mostly 'cause it was easy and Steve was around a lot. Since I went up to Jo's mom's place, I know I want something else."

"You want to work on a farm?" I checked.

"Not exactly...you won't tell Darry?" I shook my head. He shrugged. "Horses. It's still the horses. I ain't interested in the cattle, like up at Jo's, but man, being around those horses sure was fine."

xxXxx

We came back to the news that one of Pony's poker buddies had been beaten up pretty bad, by Tim and Curly. Pony maintained that he didn't know the details and Darry told him _again_ that he wasn't to hang around Mark Jennings. That didn't seem a hundred per cent fair to me, since it wasn't him that Tim had gone after. Still, Pony didn't argue with Darry, so I figured he knew more than he was letting on.

No one apparently knew any reason for Frank Campbell ending up in the hospital the same night, with a busted nose and concussion. He never said. And I stayed quiet.

xxXxx

Mr. Hollings sat back and rubbed his face. It was more of a gesture of defeat than I would have liked to see, but maybe he was just tired.

"It's a tough one, I have to be honest." He sighed. "If the mother had wanted to give up the child, it would have been easier, of course. But if she objects strongly, it's almost unheard of, for a father to get custody."

It was always a long shot, that custody would happen and Steve would be safe from Vietnam, like Darry. After it became clear we couldn't stop Steve being drafted, the focus shifted to keeping him Stateside, as Jay's main provider. Now we were running out of time for that. Steve's shipping out date was suddenly counting off in days, not weeks.

And then it was June and he was gone.

That day, I found myself looking at the sky, watching vapor trails, trying to imagine that he was up there, looking down at me. And then even that passed and I knew that he was in Vietnam. Not even in the same country as me. Not anymore.

xxXxx

In the weeks when it was just me in the house, I'd kind of gotten used to Ponyboy coming over occasionally to do his homework, if he needed peace and quiet. Seemed like the poor kid was always studying for some test or other. Knowing how noisy Soda could get, I sympathized.

It started one time after Pony did the yard-work and then sat down with his books on the back porch. He said it was quieter even than the library. And the snacks were better. Of course, he was right about it being peaceful, although he didn't know at that point, how the quietness was slowly dragging me down.

I was still surprised when he turned up one evening though, and asked if he could work on something at the kitchen table. Turned out Darry had gone over to Lynette's, while Soda and Jo were 'playing house' as Pony said, with a massive roll of his eyes. What he meant was, she was cooking for Soda and they wanted the house to themselves.

"Well, I guess her aunt and uncle are always around at her place," I said. I thought about how lucky Steve and I had been. At least we'd had the option of all those times Eddie was working away. If Steve had come from a big family and Ma didn't have a freaking amazing liberal attitude, we'd have been struggling to find private moments that didn't involve his car and a parking spot.

And I suddenly thought that, in getting to know someone, the quiet moments, the cooking dinner or just watching TV together, all of that was just as important as the making out and the kissing. I should have been grateful that Steve and I had some of that time. But in reality, it just made me miss him more.

I decided to shake myself out of it by teasing Ponyboy.

"I thought you had a new girlfriend yourself?" I challenged. This was a newish development over the summer.

He nodded. "Yeah, she's working tonight."

"Well, you can tell Soda he can come over here, when you wanna _play house_ sometime." I winked at him, knowing the suggestive tone would freak him out some. He choked out a refusal of that idea that made me stop and stare. "What d'ya mean, she ain't 'one of those type of girls'?"

"Cathy ain't...easy or nothin'. Aw, if you saw her, you'd know."

I asked him with a smile, how I would know from seeing her.

"Well she don't wear all that black shit round her eyes for a start, y'know?"

I watched him, out of my eye-linered eyes, blinking slowly, waiting him out as the penny dropped.

"Oh. No. I don't mean...Oh." He blushed a little. Then he straightened up and looked me in the eye, smiling. "Sorry, I didn't mean _you_. Although...you used to scare the shit out of me, y'know. Back when you and Steve first started dating."

"Me? Why?"

"I thought you were like Sylvia and she was scary. Always swearin' and yellin' at Dally. He never said a nice thing about her, I couldn't get my head around why anyone would want a girlfriend..."

I chuckled. "Is that right?" I did have a memory of cussing in front of Pony and Johnny one time, and him being embarrassed. "I think that might have said more about Dally than the general idea of girlfriends."

Pony shrugged. "I guess." He frowned. "I asked Soda one time. About Sandy."

I waited.

"He seemed so happy. And then she..."

"And I think that said something about _her_, not the general idea of girlfriends."

"I guess," he repeated. Then he looked at me guiltily. "Is it bad that I was relieved when Cathy said she didn't want to go out tonight?"

"Not if you got homework to get done." _Jeez, when did I turn into Mrs. Responsible?_

He sighed. "Yeah. And that. But...it's just that she keeps mentioning Bryon. I mean, they're done an' all, but it's like, she don't wanna go to this place or that, because that's where she used to go with him..."

Oh. I remembered him telling me that he fancied a chick who dated some other guy. I wondered if he knew what 'on the rebound' meant, and if his thing with Cathy was doomed because of it.

xxXxx

Tony called me at work. I had a niece. The hospital environment was beyond Ma's ability to cope, but Sarah wanted to see me. Marian helped me make up a real nice bunch of everything pink we had in stock and I set off.

I got a little turned around at the hospital. I knew the maternity unit wasn't on the same side as the ward where Eddie had died, but somehow I ended up in the emergency department. There was a hell of a commotion going on, cops and security guys closing off one side, as doctors and nurses zapped back and forth. Someone was screaming blue murder. I figured it for a bad trip.

"Her!" A voice shrieked. "She's one of them!"

A couple of the cops looked over their shoulders at me, because the voice was real insistent. And recognizable.

"I told you, they're all watching me!" Becky screamed. I stared in horror. She was streaked with blood and it looked like some of her hair was torn out, by the dried mess caking her scalp. She was struggling between two cops as a doctor hovered with a syringe, but she was such a moving target that he couldn't get near her.

"What happened?" I blurted. A security guard curled his lip, muttering to me that she'd been brought in by her boyfriend after they'd had a fight, but before he even booked her in, she stabbed him right there, in the hospital, in front of everyone.

"Oh my god! Is he okay?" I didn't know her boyfriend, but what the hell? The guy shrugged.

"He was yelling 'bout as loud as she is, so I guess."

"What about her little boy?" I asked, my heart banging. He looked at me blankly. I grabbed the nearest nurse. "Where's her baby? She have a kid with her?" I whirled to the cops and then to Becky. "Where's Jay? _John_. Becky, where's _John_?"

I distracted her long enough that the doctor jabbed her with whatever he had ready and she jerked in the cops' arms, then flopped against them.

As they got her onto a gurney, one of the cops, a young guy, turned back to me. "What's that? A kid? You know her? I thought she was just tripping..."

"No. I do know her. She has a baby, did they bring the baby in?" I felt nearly sick with panic. He looked at his partner, asking where the boyfriend had ended up. We were directed to a curtained off area. The guy lying on the bed was having his arm cleaned up. The cop questioned him and he looked at us hazily.

"BabyJohn always comes along for the ride." _Fuck. What did that mean?_ He nodded, way too happily for someone who'd just had his arm stabbed. "Little dude has his own seat an' everythin'."

I took off for the parking lot and the cop ran with me. There was a VW bus half on the sidewalk. It couldn't be that easy, could it? I ran over. Maybe it was a long shot, but I didn't think the cop would make much of a detective, he was looking in the windows of all the normal looking sedans and station wagons. Didn't he pay any attention to the kind of people Becky and her boyfriend were? How they were dressed? Nothing?

I guess the penny dropped because he ran over to me as I pressed my face against the windows of the VW. My stomach lurched. Jay was inside, strapped into a car seat on the rear bench. He wasn't moving.

I started babbling, yanking on the door handles, telling the cop that we needed to get to him. He tried all the handles too. Then he elbowed me back, said, "Watch out," and smashed one of the windows with his baton.

The noise woke up Jay – _oh, God, thank you God, he was only sleeping, through all the drama he'd only been sleeping! _He started yelling as the cop loomed over him and pulled him out. I gathered Jay into a hug and he subsided into shaky breaths as he looked around.

"Thank you, thank you so much." I kissed Jay and explained to the cop that I was his step mother. The other cop and a doctor showed up.

And then things went to shit.

xxXxx

"I am his step mother!" I was repeating myself on a loop. "Just call my lawyer, he can show you that in writing!"

I had agreed with the doctor who wanted to check Jay out. I didn't know what had been going on, whether Becky had given him anything, whether she and her boyfriend had been looking after him at all. But even though he was perfectly fine, the doctor, or the cops, or all of them, called the Department of Public Welfare and now I was facing down a social worker.

"I absolutely cannot let you take this child." She was a sour faced, grey haired witch and I wanted to scream at her.

"Listen," I said, sounding completely reasonable to my own ears. "He didn't come with a tag, did he? You don't even know that he actually belongs to Becky, if you think about it. So you can't let her keep him."

"The child will be placed in a safe environment – "

"He has a home!" I heard my voice break.

xxXxx

The flowers were kind of sorry looking. Squashed when I'd been holding Jay, thrown aside when I was arguing with the social worker. I pulled out one or two that were beyond saving and fluffed up the rest.

There was only about four minutes of visiting time left. After I congratulated Sarah, three of them were spent sobbing on her shoulder as I told her about Jay. One of the nurses threw me out in disgust. I wandered over to the nursery, where Tony was pressed against the glass of the viewing window, looking like a man who'd been hit by a truck and was real happy about the collision.

"Isn't she beautiful," he whispered, not taking his eyes from the pink cocoon on the other side of the glass. "We're calling her 'Antonia', Sarah insisted." He put his hand out, like he could reach through and touch her. He was still nearer to doing so than I was to holding Jay.

xxXxx

Mr. Hollings put the phone down. "Miss Roberts was released from the hospital, straight into police custody. She has to be looking at time for the stabbing, even more for the drugs that they found on her. I can build a solid case for unfit parent, but it still won't guarantee the Department will find in your favor."

"If she comes to her senses, realizes that she's going to prison, and says that she wants Jay to live with us, not go into the system, would that help?"

He creased up his face. "Maybe."

"Can't you go see her, then. Be her lawyer?"

"No. Not and still represent Steve." He looked genuinely sorry, but I knew his sympathy wouldn't be enough. I asked him, in desperation, what else I could do.

"Got any contacts in high places?" He wasn't being serious. But he got me thinking.

xxXxx

"I realize it ain't 'regular', it ain't a very 'regular' situation." I was almost begging the woman behind the desk, secretary or clerk, or whatever she was.

"I can make you an appointment, for next-"

"_Please_." Right as I said it, the door to the inner office opened. He still looked like a department store Santa, without the red suit. I probably looked as desperate as I felt, because he stopped short, before he said whatever he'd been about to say to the woman. "Do you remember me?" I blurted. "You married me, back in February, when Steve got drafted. You said you had hope for us? Do you remember?"

The judge blinked. "I remember you, young lady. I hope you haven't come to tell me you changed your mind."

I shook my head. "I need some help, please. I really need some help."

The woman's objection was waved aside and he told her he had five minutes. He told me the same as he showed me into his room.

I talked fast.

xxXxx

_Dear Steve,_

_I got him! I got Jay. He lives with us, with you, now. Mr. Hollings wrote all this stuff up and Judge Standish, that married us, made the Department of Public Welfare release him to me. Becky got arrested and she was high and they're gonna say she can't have him back, not even when she gets out of jail. There's gonna be a social worker checking up on me, but it can't be any worse than what Darry and Soda and Pony had to put up with, right? _

_He's right here, in the house and he's staying! When you come home we'll both be waiting. I wish you were here to see Jay. He got even bigger and he has four new teeth. I'm putting in a Polaroid that Jo took of him and me on the porch, so you can see it's really true. He's here._

_I'm gonna send this letter three times, because I don't know how good the mail will be and I really want to make sure that you get this news. _

_I love you. Be safe. _

_Evie_.

* * *

**A/N: I would have loved to include more letters, for this stage of the story. But I couldn't make myself compete with one of my absolute favorite Vietnam fics: 'Letters from the Sky' by some blue december, part of a series of Steve stories. If you haven't read them, you should, although I think 'Letters from the Sky' can stand alone. It is heartbreaking. **


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Advance puke alert, for Panda Bear and anyone else who hates it!**

* * *

_**July 1967...**_

"Are you serious? Your attic must be bigger than your house!" I couldn't believe the stuff that Carol came up with, now that I had Jay with me permanently. It was lucky that Pony was already there that Sunday morning, he helped Walt carry in and assemble the wooden crib. It was real swanky. Nicer even than the one Sarah had.

Carol smiled guiltily. "Now, don't you go getting all proud like Steven...but, I confess, this is new. I had a lot of stuff, but not _all_ the old furniture."

"Thank you." I meant it. I didn't have the luxury of pride right now, there was no way I was going to turn down anything as important as this. The social worker was coming in the morning and I wanted everything to be as perfect as it could.

Carol ran her fingers lightly over the cowboy wallpaper in the little room. "I remember this..."

I wanted Jay's room to look like a baby's nursery, not like he was only camping out here, so I had decided to make over the little room. But I couldn't ditch the wallpaper that had been Steve's. Now Carol's present of a crib was joining the little dresser and a tiny wardrobe that Two-Bit had found for me.

Jo brought me a photo frame. It had space for two pictures and we put in one of Steve in uniform and an older one, of him in his leather jacket. I placed it carefully on the dresser, facing the crib.

Pony had been putting the finishing touches to a painting of galloping horses that he had drawn for me, right across the plain wall. He copied them out of a picture book – he'd found a stack of them in a delivery that turned up at the junk store. Soda razzed him, but Pony insisted that Jay was not too young for stories and he volunteered to read each and every one to him.

Carol had brought a high chair too and some toys, including a set of zoo animals that had belonged to the twins.

"Are you sure they don't mind?" I wanted to check.

"Oh no. It's all rockets and robots now, that's all they talk about." She joggled Jay in her arms. He was kind of scratchy. Carol said he was teething again, because he was dribbling constantly and chewing on whatever he could get in his little hands.

Pony and Walt were deep in conversation, looking at papers and stuff on the kitchen table.

Back a few months ago, the copy of Walt's book had been only the first thing they corresponded about. Walt had asked to see Pony's own writing and to everyone's surprise, Pony had agreed. Nobody was ever allowed to read his stuff. The loudest I'd ever heard the kid yell was one time when he thought Soda had been in his notebooks.

Turned out that Pony was good. I don't think anyone was surprised; he still made great grades and he was graduating high school at the age of sixteen, for heaven's sake. But Walt was the one persuaded him to apply to Northeastern State, where he had tenure, and then he took him on a tour down there in Tahlequah. They offered Pony a scholarship for everything._ Everything_. They really wanted him.

And he said no.

Luckily, he had the sense to tell Darry when everyone was around. Because what the poor kid meant was, 'not yet'.

I mean, if I thought back two years, to when I was sixteen, I might have _said_ I was ready to move out of home, might have made a big deal of it, to be honest. But, for real? Nah. I don't think I was. I was having issues with it right now, at eighteen, with a freaking wedding ring on my finger that was supposed to be my membership card to the adult world.

Ponyboy was smart about that, like he was about everything else.

And after a bit of yelling and a bit more of everyone talking across each other, he looked at his big brother and he said, real quiet:

"Darry, think about the draft."

Nobody said anything. Nobody blustered that the war could well be over by the time Ponyboy graduated, even if he got an early start. I don't think any of us believed that. Darry swallowed, then nodded.

"I hear ya, little buddy."

Soda hugged Ponyboy's shoulders. "So we get to keep you a while yet. I guess we can live with that." He was joking, but his eyes, for once, were perfectly serious.

I went outside. I didn't really need a smoke, but I needed a little space. I tucked onto the porch couch, hugging my knees, thinking about the times I'd sat there with Steve. After a little while, Pony joined me. He lit up a weed and took a couple of quick drags.

"Evie? Keep a secret?"

That was a surprise, but I nodded.

"I lied."

I stared at him.

"I ain't worried about the draft. I mean, I ain't itching to go to jail, but I would, 'cause I'd burn my draft card for sure. But it ain't that." He seemed to realize that I might take offense, because he added, quickly, "Nothin' against Steve. I understand why he went, and if it was some other war, I might feel the same. I just don't agree with Vietnam."

"I'm pretty anti it, myself," I said, with a tight smile. Although I knew that whatever his carefully considered political opinions were, they had nothing to do with why I hated the situation. "So, if not the draft, then what?"

"Aw, it's been bad enough in high school, always being youngest in the class. I don't want that all over again in college."

"But in college, would they care so much? Wouldn't it just be about how smart you are?" I was guessing, I had no clue. I had only a hazy idea of what it might be like, mostly based on movies. "I mean, you're real smart. That's the point, huh? And your writing an' stuff, what about that?"

Pony sighed. "It ain't that I don't wanna go to college. I do. But I want..._need_...to be at home. I can't imagine not living with Darry and Soda."

"Are you scared?" I tried to sound gentle, not like I was judging him.

"God, yes!" His honesty was so sweet.

"Why don't you go here, then? You could live at home and go to TU, couldn't you?"

He shrugged. "Walt got me a better offer down there. And I liked it, I did. The courses are great. I just...don't wanna go yet."

"Will they keep your place, for next year?"

He nodded. "But, I don't know if I'll be able to do it then, either."

"Why?"

Pony stood on his weed and ground it out far longer than it needed. "It feels like it's making things too real. I know we're different now, everything's different. But as long as we're all three living here, it's like maybe Mom and Dad just went out for the day..."

"Oh, Pony." I swung my legs down off the couch and I hugged him.

"If I live somewhere else, they won't ever have been there." He sounded very young, his voice muffled in my shoulder. "I know that's stupid."

"No, it ain't. Not at all." _Jeez, he was thirteen years old the last time his parents walked out on this porch. Maybe a part of him would always be thirteen. _

xxXxx

I don't think you can ever get used to being woken out of a deep sleep, whatever the reason. And Jay had been pretty good, in the week or so that he had been back with me. He flaked out in the evening and made it through the whole night.

So, it was a definite shock to my system when he started yelling at half three in the morning.

"Hey, sweetie, 's'up?" I yawned as I went into the little room. He was sitting up in the crib and bawling something fierce.

Now this was yet another thing that I'd received conflicting advice about. Pick him up, or don't pick him up? Depended if it was Maggie, Ma, or Carol doing the advising. Or Sarah, now that a couple of weeks of being a mother, and every baby book ever printed, had made her the world's expert on child rearing.

And the reasoning behind the advice was different too. Either, 'he'll only learn to keep doing it' or, 'he'll be too upset to calm down by himself'. 'Babies need a firm hand, they need routine'. 'Babies only need to know they're loved'.

It was impossible to know what to do. I was trying to be brave and ignore all of them and go with my own gut, but it was difficult. This time, though, Jay took the decision out of my hands. He puked all over his crib.

Then he crawled in the puke, to get to the side bars and pull himself up.

"Shoot. Oh, Jay, baby, hold on." I tried to pull the crib sheets away before the puke soaked into the mattress, but he launched himself at me, howling and grabbing onto my arm. I abandoned the sheets and picked him up, holding him off me to avoid the mess that was now all over him, as best I could.

I lowered him onto the changing mat – which was on the floor these days, because he couldn't be trusted not to escape if you turned around for a second – and I peeled his pajamas off, but not without smearing puke in his hair. He was still yelling, although a little quieter now. I could hardly be mad. I mean, I've been sick in the middle of the night, it's enough to make anyone weep.

I left him for a second, to yank up the dirty sheets and dump them by the door, his PJs landing on top of the heap. Then I took him into the bathroom – the light was way bright, for both of us – and sponged off his hair and his hands. And then I noticed that I hadn't avoided the puke entirely, so I dropped my own nightgown by the sink.

I carried Jay back to his room, grabbed clean PJs and took him into my room, sitting him on the bed while I found clean PJs for myself. As I pulled them on, Jay hurled again, right on his clean clothes which I'd left next to him.

"Oh, Jay, honey." I moved him, balling up the second set of nightwear – I got to it just in time, there was a dime sized splatter on the comforter, but I was prepared to ignore that right then. He was sobbing now, snot bubbling out his nose. I wiped his face with a Kleenex and scooped him up again, sending the dirty stuff onto the pile in his room and grabbing the last clean pajamas in his dresser.

I detoured to the bathroom and this time, back in my room, I lay him on a towel, before I dressed him again. He was obviously real tired, clutching at me and trying to suck his thumb between gasping sobs.

My heart was telling me that even if I made up the crib, I wouldn't be able to leave him in there, so I tucked him next to me, watching as his eyes dropped closed.

Kids got sick to their stomachs easily. I knew that. I'd seen Antonia puke after every time Sarah fed her. It didn't mean Jay was real unwell. Did it? I felt his forehead. He'd worked himself into a bit of a sweat with all the yelling, but I thought he was cooling off some.

Should I give him baby aspirin? Should I take him to the doctor? Maybe I should have cleaned his four tiny teeth for him – that always made me feel better after I puked. Maybe it was his new teeth coming through? Carol blamed his grumpy behavior on that...but what if she was wrong and he was grumpy because he felt ill?

I looked at my alarm clock and was amazed to see it said four thirty.

Shit. I had absolutely, completely, no freaking idea what to do. And I couldn't call anyone. Not at this time of night. Morning. Whatever it officially was.

Jay, on the verge of falling asleep, thrashed a little. There were unmistakable wet, gurgling noises and then the worst smell hit me like a freight train. Even as I went to pick him up, a stain appeared on the leg of his pants as the diaper failed to contain the explosion.

How could one little body produce so much mess?

I thanked God for hot running water. I ended up showering him down, because it was the only way I could get him clean enough. He roared and fought me and then, immediately I got a clean diaper on him, fell asleep in my arms. I staggered back to bed with him and lay there feeling like I might never get enough sleep again.

Who the hell knocks on a person's door at dawn? That's what I was thinking as I shot awake for the second time and stumbled into the hallway. Except the sun was real bright and it turned out that it was long past dawn.

Oh, hellfire and double damnation. How was that fair? How was it even possible that it had gotten to be nine o'clock and I was opening the door to the freaking social worker?

"Mrs. Randle? Is everything...all right?" She looked like a school teacher. One of those ones in middle school with home knitted sweaters, who don't have kids of their own and treat their class as a substitute family. Bringing in lumpy cookies and showing you pictures of their cat. Except _they_ don't have the power to destroy your world.

"I...um...yes. I guess I overslept. Sorry." Jesus, I sounded like some irresponsible party chick right there. She'd probably march in and take Jay away before I said anything else. _Jay._ I backed away, realizing that I was wearing an old, torn, t shirt of Steve's, because my pajama top had gotten soaked during the emergency shower. "Uh, please come in, I need to check on Jay."

And 'come in' apparently meant 'follow me' because she was behind me as I reached the bedroom door. Jay was sleeping peacefully, starfish-style, in the middle of the bed. He was now wearing a t shirt and diaper combo, since I'd run out of PJs for him too.

"Bad night?" the social worker said, sounding sympathetic. Should I be suspicious about that?

"He was sick. Twice. An' he had the worst upset stomach."

"Is he teething?"

Holy cow. Really? That was the obvious answer, to everyone?

"You know, it can make them unwell. Plus, they get to gnawing on everything, maybe get a stomach germ or two." She smiled. "He seems fine now. Why don't I wait in the front room, while you get dressed and then we can start again."

I wanted to hug her. But since I wasn't a hundred per cent sure I didn't smell of baby puke, or worse, I didn't. I let her disappear and I washed my face and threw on some clothes. Jay was stirring, so I carried out a lightning diaper change, then picked him up and carried him through.

He snuggled in my arms as I sat nervously on the couch opposite her.

"Well, good morning." She smiled impishly. "I am Miss Nelson and I will be your case worker, while Jay is living with you. And hello, to you, Jay." She waved. He stared at her.

"Would you like some coffee?" I asked her. She said yes, and asked if she could hold Jay while I was gone. She suggested I try him on water, until I was sure he wasn't going to hurl again. She said 'vomit', obviously.

I put on the coffee pot and then, with a shiver of horror, remembered the pile of dirty sheets and clothes in Jay's room and the bathroom. Hell, the whole house probably smelled of puke. I darted out to get everything, stuffed it in the washer and threw open all the windows and the back door.

I carried in two cups of coffee – having downed half a mug in the kitchen already. I put Miss Nelson's cup way back on the side table by her armchair and told her that was the limit of Jay's reach.

She smiled. I wondered if that had just marked a little box on her mental list. _Aware of potential dangers? Check._

Jay drank a bottle of water and then he wriggled enough that she put him on the blanket in the corner. He grabbed up one of the plastic animals that Carol had brought and chewed it enthusiastically.

"He don't seem ill now," I hazarded.

"What would you do if he was?" Uh huh. The interrogation had begun. I told her all the people I could call for advice, despite the fact that I knew they would contradict each other and then I told her that I would drive Jay to the Emergency Department, if necessary. She smiled.

"You mentioned your mother-in-law. Do you get along?"

I thought that was a bit personal, to be honest. But I guess I was going to have to get used to personal. I wondered briefly what Darry had to put up with, when he was faced with the third degree. He'd told me to make sure the house was clean and not to tell them anything they didn't ask about. Well, she asked about Carol.

I told her that Carol was kind and helpful. I told her that she'd been here only the day before.

"You wanna see what she brought?" I jumped to my feet. Jay immediately held up his arms. He didn't like to be left on his own. I picked him up and showed Miss Nelson to his bedroom. "I just put the sheets to wash, 'cause, y'know...but this is all new. It's real nice, huh?" I waited for her approval of the crib. Jay squeaked for Wrench, when he saw the toy on the dresser. I handed the monkey over with the 'ooh ohh' noise we always made when we played with it and he waved it around happily by the tail.

Miss Nelson ignored the crib and pointed to the photo frame. "Is this your husband?"

I nodded.

"And when exactly will he be home again?"

Bizarrely, I felt tears well up. I blinked furiously. "I can't say _exactly_. But about a year from now." Back from Vietnam anyway. Early out. That's what he called it. He was coming back as soon as he could.

Her eyes rested on the uniform picture. "Have you considered what you would do, in the sad event that..."

"Oh!" I sucked in a breath, wrapping my arms tighter around Jay.

"I'm sorry. We just have to consider –"

"Steve will be fine. An' if he...he didn't come home, it wouldn't make no difference to how I feel about Jay. That ain't even..." I ran out of words. I smoothed Jay's hair, torn between being furious and wanting to burst into tears.

I walked away from the social worker, into the kitchen, putting Jay down in his high chair. I peeled a banana and handed him a piece that would fit in his hand. He slobbered over it enthusiastically.

I knew she had followed me. "He's hungry," I stated, daring her to challenge me. "I can hear his stomach growling. I don't think he's gonna get sick, he kept that water down."

She nodded. "Mrs. Randle, I'm not looking for ways to catch you out, I promise. Banana is a good idea. Apple sauce too. And plain bread. Until you're sure his stomach is okay." That seemed genuine enough. But still.

"I could have had my own baby," I blurted. "I know girls way younger than me with kids. It don't seem fair, that I have to be checked up on."

Miss Nelson studied me for a moment. "That's a nice size yard," she said suddenly, looking out the back door. "You may need to get a fence up on this side, once Jay gets to running around." She smiled at me. "This time next year he's gonna be real fast on his feet. I bet he'll want to play some baseball with his daddy when he's home again."

I had no problem returning her smile.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Well, lol at the idea the last chapter might be a contraceptive! Hope I didn't put too many people off the idea of kids - I promise, the good outweighs the gross! :) Although, we might have to wait for Evie to agree...**

* * *

_**August 1967**_

And just like that, everything in the world was easy and went well and... Nah. My name ain't Cinderella and no one was waving any magic wand over me. Having a baby to look after did not suddenly mean that I had all the answers. Hell, maybe not even any of them.

Jay turned one year old, without his father around, with his mother in jail, and I wasn't sure I was any kind of substitute.

I was so, so tired. No union in the world would give the okay to a job that lasted twenty four seven. I loved Jay, for sure, but there was no let up. Ever.

All I seemed to be good for was to have the freaking washer going all day every day, thanking God that it was summer and stuff dried real quick. I already knew by heart all the details about potty training in Sarah's baby care books. It couldn't come around quick enough for me – if I wasn't soaking and washing diapers, I was pinning them on the line, or taking them in and folding them, then starting all over again.

I was okay for money - Steve's Army pay was fine and I was still managing two or three days a week at Marian's, even though the social worker preferred that I didn't - but disposables were pretty expensive for every day. I bought just enough to leave some with Ma, when she had Jay for me, because I figured they had enough going on with Antonia's diapers. We didn't know Jay until he was that bit bigger, of course, and I'd been amazed at how many times a day a newborn needed changing.

The day the washer died, I sank down on the floor next to it in defeat. Jay was in his high chair, banging a spoon enthusiastically. He grinned at me, but I was just so tired, I couldn't even smile back.

"Hey, hey, hey, little Jay –" Two-Bit broke off from his enthusiastic greeting, as he came in through the open back door. "S'up, Tink?"

I reached back to thump the offending machine.

"Everything sucks," I complained. "This piece of crap went out on me, I got no clean clothes, I didn't hear from Steve in like a month and...everything sucks."

"Whoa. I feel ya. What'll I do? You want a beer?" Two-Bit opened the ice box. "No beer?"

"Ha! No beer, no bread, no nothin'. I was going to the store after I got the wash done, but that ain't happening no time soon." I was wallowing and I knew it. But I damn well didn't care.

"Soda look at the machine before?"

I shrugged. "Yup. Said then it was on its last legs. Guess he was right."

"Okay. We can get another one. I know a guy..."

"You know a guy who'll come stuff it with dirty diapers every day too?" I asked, a little more bitterly than I intended.

Two-Bit sat at the kitchen table, handing Jay another spoon, since the last one had been flung on the floor.

"That what this is really about?"

"Huh?" I squinted up at him, not having the energy to get off the floor.

He crinkled up his gray eyes. "You lonely?"

"I'm okay," I lied stubbornly.

"Evie!"

"Vevie!" Jay parroted. We both looked at him, in amazement. He grinned at us, all his new little teeth on show.

"Hey, little buddy. Who's that?" Two-Bit said, excitedly, pointing at me. "That Evie?"

"Vevie!"

"Whoa! Little dude's talkin'!" Two-Bit clapped his hands. "How 'bout me, huh? Can you say 'Two-Bit'? Huh? '_Two-Bit'_?"

Jay poked at him with the spoon and chuckled.

"Maybe later." Two-Bit grinned. "But back to the question, '_Vevie_'. You doin' it tough? Are we not around enough?"

"Not at midnight, when the house is creaking like a whole gang of burglars and not at five a.m. when this one wants to play," I whined.

Two-Bit got an uncharacteristically thoughtful look on his face. "Is it really a month since you heard from Steve?" Yeah, and he was right on the money, of course, that was exactly why I was feeling lonelier than ever. I nodded.

"Not since he wrote back that he got the news about Jay."

"That just means there's a letter due to arrive any time now." God, he was trying so hard to sound positive. Before I could tell him I appreciated that, he beamed. "But, I reckon, I can still solve your midnight and five a.m. problem."

"You got Mary Poppins's number? Some other contacts in the world of home help?"

"Yeah, 'live in help', of course that's what I'm talkin' about. Someone to lace ya into your corsets, Miss Scarlett." Two-Bit rolled his eyes. "Me, you dufus. I'm talking 'bout me moving in."

I burst into tears.

"Christ, I ain't that bad to live with. Pretty sure I can get my ma to give me a character reference."

I shook my head, sniffing and nodding at the same time. "I really need some help."

He grinned. "Done deal. First we get this washer sorted, yeah?" He picked up the phone, barking into it the second it was answered: "Get your ass over to the Randle residence, _Uncle_ Soda and bring Uncle Pony! We got some steppin' up to do."

We left Pony babysitting – and he got a real gleam in his eye, when Two-Bit reported that Jay had said my name – and we went to see Two-Bit's 'guy'. Turned out to be the second hand appliance dealer down on Second. Soda and Two-Bit let me choose a model I liked the look of, then they took over the haggling and got it for a price that made me smile. Between them, they wrangled it into the kitchen and swapped out the old one before Soda set about hooking it up.

In the front room, every toy that Jay owned was on some surface or other. Jay himself was insisting that Pony stack blocks expressly so that he could knock them over. He cracked up laughing every time.

Pony turned aside and hissed at us: "Watch." He kept his attention apparently off the toddler.

Jay babbled a string of nonsense, then when Pony didn't react, he picked up a block and tried to put it in his hand. Pony still didn't look around. Jay scowled. _Holy cow, he looked like Steve._ Then he whacked Pony on the hand with the block.

"Pon_ee_!" he demanded. Maybe it sounded a little like, 'Podee', but there was no denying the intent.

"Yeah?" Pony turned to him. "What you want, little buddy? Oh, you want me to build the bricks for you?" He did so, shooting me and Two-Bit a wicked smile. "I think he knows who we all are. I only said it a coupla times, then he called me it right back. Look." He picked up two bricks. "One for Jay...One for..."

"Pon_ee_." Jay beamed, although he swiped the brick back from in front of Pony.

"Aw. I wanted to be next." Two-Bit griped.

Jay pulled himself up onto the couch and scrambled over to me, tucking in under my neck.

"He's getting tired." I glanced at the clock. It was pretty much his bedtime.

"Right. The kid's going on a sleepover, at Casa Curtis. What's he gonna need?" I stared at Two-Bit's statement and tried to protest but he looked at me stubbornly. "Where's the frigging rule book that says you gotta do this on your own, 24/7? C'mon, Tink. This could just as easily happen if Steve was here."

I showed him where Jay's stuff was and we packed a little overnight bag, making sure that we included Wrench, otherwise Jay wouldn't sleep. And we folded up the travel crib to send with him. He was way too big to sleep in a drawer now.

Two-Bit called through to the kitchen: "Hey, you done in there?" Then, when there was no answer, he yelled a bit louder, "Soda?"

"So-da," Jay said, pointing sleepily as Soda appeared. Soda took him from me, cuddling him and telling him he was a genius.

Two-Bit scowled. "Hell. If he says 'Darry' next, that's it. I ain't speaking to him no more."

"Yeah? Well, you can stop with the '_hell'_, for sure," I whispered the word in question. "I don't want him repeating cuss words."

Soda actually offered for Pony to drive the truck, he was so happy to hang onto Jay. I hoped he'd feel the same when Jay woke him up in the morning.

It was weird to close the door behind them and have the house be all quiet. Two-Bit beamed at me.

"Phase one of Operation Revive Tink complete. Phase Two, go take a bath."

"Excuse me?" I looked around at the devastation in the front room.

Two-Bit assumed a wise expression. "I am aware of the mystical healing properties of a long bubble bath on the female person."

I squinted at him suspiciously.

"Hey, I got a mom. I got a sister. It's a wonder I ever get in that bathroom."

"I have to..." _Jesus. Washing. Cleaning up..._

"Nope. I got this. Don't make me carry you in there. You know I can..." he threatened with a grin.

xxXxx

So, I ran the new arrangements past Marian first, thinking back to when she'd been a little off about Two-Bit staying with me when he was hurt. She pointed out that the fight with Campbell kind of proved how loyal Two-Bit was to Steve, but I ought to expect some flak from people who didn't see it that way.

Carol, for one. I stood my ground and insisted that she continue visiting as she always had, even asked her to drop in unannounced if she wanted, to prove that I had nothing to hide. She calmed down and told me that she knew I would never go behind Steve's back, but that she worried how it would look to people who didn't know us so well. Same as Marian, really.

For a second, I did stop and consider: were they right? Was living with Two-Bit worse than going for a drink with Tim, in the eyes of the world?

I expected Sarah to pitch a fit. What surprised me, was Ma. And even to an extent, Maggie Mathews, who - despite her son's confidence about a reference - issued dire warnings about Two-Bit's level of house training, which I thought was rich, given that she was the one supposed to have done that job.

Sarah's concerns were easiest to handle, at first.

"Don't be disgusting!" I told her. "Two-Bit is my _friend_. We ain't sleeping together, for Chrissakes! It ain't no different than if Joanne moved into the house."

"Then have Joanne move in," was her immediate answer. "Why don't you have a girl roommate?"

"Because firstly, she didn't offer and she's happy where she is and secondly, Two-Bit _did_ offer and he'll be a damn sight more useful when the water heater breaks down again." Hell, that was a lie, he'd probably be the first to call Darry and Soda if that happened. But I could not admit that as far as bumps in the night went, Joanne just wouldn't cut it for me if I needed back up.

"Say what you like, people are going to think you're going behind Steve's back."

"Not any people that matter. Not any people who know us. _Properly_."

"You count the Department of Child Welfare in that category?"

Damn, that was the point when I ran out of fire and she got under my skin. How would it look, to the social worker?

Weirdly, Ma's line of attack was different again. She told me that it was hard work living with a man and I hadn't even had the chance to do so with Steve, who was actually my husband. Sarah nodded along, so I guess her arguments covered this as well.

"Well, I lived in this house with Tony here for almost a year, didn't I?" I objected. "An' I stayed over loads at Steve's, y'all know that. It ain't like I don't know that guys fart and burp and leave the toilet seat up."

xxXxx

"...so, I know it might look a little shady, but it ain't an' I just wanted to tell you, uh, show you, that it's, y'know, a practical arrangement an' all..." I was rambling and I knew it.

Miss Nelson looked up from where she'd been kneeling and stacking bricks for Jay as he played on the blanket in front of us. He batted the little pile down and chortled.

"Mrs Randle, I see all kinds of living arrangements, I can assure you." She sounded chilled enough. If I was reading her right. I asked her, again, to call me Evie.

The front door banged.

"Sorry. Sorry, Tink, this guy came in the store an' I couldn't shift him, but on the upside he –" Two-Bit shut up abruptly as he barreled into the front room. I shot him a venomous glare out of Miss Nelson's eye line, as she heaved herself off the floor.

Two-Bit beamed and stuck his hand out. "Keith Mathews, ma'am. I'm so sorry to be late, I was held up at work."

"Well, you're here now. Where is 'work'?" She was right in there with the inquisition. He told her, talking up the 'antiques', although I could see she knew exactly what he was talking about.

"And how long have you been friends?" she asked, in the middle of one of his descriptions of how he was building up the store and planned to be a linchpin of the business community.

Two-Bit didn't hesitate. "Couple of years. But I been good buddies with Steve all my life."

"And how does Steve feel about this arrangement? Your living here?" She was like a dog with a bone, not cutting him any slack at all.

Two-Bit frowned. "Well, obviously I ain't spoken to him, bein' as how he's tied up with soldiering right about now." I held my breath, willing him not to get pissy with her. _Keep cool_, I beamed at him. He swallowed and continued. "But Evie wrote him. And the last thing he said to me, before he went away, was to look after her. An' I promised. So, I'm pretty damn sure he wouldn't appreciate me standing by while she struggled on her own, if'n I can be here to help."

I had to look away, when he said that. _The last thing Steve said to him..._

Jay staggered over to Two-Bit and whacked him on the knee with a brick, chattering a stream of nonsense at him. Two-Bit scooped him up and nodded.

"I agree, little man. Miss Nelson, Jay says you oughta have the nickel tour." He stood up and he followed him out the room.

"So, you seen this little dude's pad, lately?" He pushed open the door to the little room, where the crib and stuff was absolutely as neat as I could make it, knowing she was coming. Jay jabbered and reached for Wrench. Two-Bit picked it up for him and he hugged it close.

"And this here is where I lay my head," announced Two-Bit, demonstrating his room – Steve's old bedroom - by swinging his free arm like a game show hostess, which was a grander gesture than the room really deserved. "Just me. I don't expect Evie to clean it, or nothing."

Although, I had, of course, been in there this morning after he went to work, to pick up anything I thought oughtn't to be on display. I'd discovered that Two-Bit had found the old centerfold, maybe at the back of Steve's closet. She was now on the inside of the door, staple holes in her belly and all. As for his dirty washing, he could retrieve that from where I'd kicked it under the bed in his own time.

"And you're paying rent to Mrs...to Evie?"

"Well, I ain't gonna freeload off her," was his perfectly innocent reply. "So, yeah, I'm paying rent. We split most everything, huh?" He smiled at me. "'Cept, the cooking. If I'm honest, she ain't no great shakes in the kitchen, so I do a fair proportion –"

"Two-Bit!" I whispered.

"Oh. Sorry. Well, you can't be good at everything, Tink. Ain't that right, Miss Nelson?"

She was smiling despite herself. He nodded at the last bedroom door.

"And that's Tink's, sorry, _Evie's_ room. The threshold of which I do not cross."

"Two-Bit!" I was louder that time.

"Well, ain't that what this is all about? Cards on the table, Miss N? Ain't that what you're checking? It is, if you don't mind my saying, doing Evie a disservice. If Steve was here, you'd see she's only got eyes for him." He shrugged. Jay giggled at the movement, so he bounced him some more. But he was serious as he carried on talking. "This here kid is wanted and loved in this house. You gotta have worse off than this 'un. Worse off than this set up. Huh?"

Miss Nelson studied him a moment. The she nodded. "Sadly, that's true. But given the circumstances, I have to keep an eye on things."

"Understood." He clapped her on the back and steered her back to the front room. "Now, how about we all have some coffee? You're safe with that, but I wouldn't recommend Evie's baking, so I'd nix the muffins, if I was you..."


	18. Chapter 18

_**September 1967...**_

Two-Bit came in from work, the front door slamming behind him as usual. He said hey and bent down to ruffle Jay's hair. Jay grinned up at him and held up his shape sorter hopefully. Two-Bit glanced over at me at the desk, as he hunted up the various colored shapes and piled them in front of Jay.

"Watcha doin'?"

I brandished the pen at him. "What's it look like?"

"Send him kisses from me."

"Write him yourself."

"I'll get round to it." He threw himself down across the armchair, legs hanging over the arm. "Are we eating tonight?"

"I'll get round to it," I parroted back, exaggerating his tone. "I gotta tell Steve that Jay said 'Dada' to his photo."

"Again?"

"Yup. It ain't a fluke. He really said it."

"Man, I get it. I am real low down on the priority list. He's gonna know the names of all The freakin' Monkees before he gets to me" Two-Bit griped. "Ain't that right, little man? You know the one with the stupid hat, huh? What's his name?"

"Stop it," I said with a laugh. "It must just be hard to say. It ain't exactly a usual sounding name, is it now?"

He looked real thoughtful. "Hmm. You might have something there, Tink. Hey, Jay-Bird! Can you say 'Keith'?"

I burst out laughing. "That won't mean nothing to him. Ain't no one calls you that." I reached down and handed Jay one of his zoo animals. "Here, sweetie. Can you go give this lion to Two-Bit? Give it to Uncle Two-Bit, yeah?"

Jay used the coffee table to pull himself up and he toddled his way over to the armchair. He slapped the toy down on Two-Bit's stomach. Two-Bit pretended to be winded with a dramatic 'oof!' and then pulled Jay up into a hug.

"See? He knows who you are. Stop being paranoid. He'll get around to sayin' it sometime." I shook my head at him, as he lifted Jay up, bench pressing him and making him shriek with laughter.

"Did the kid come by earlier?"

I nodded. "Remind me again why Pony's still mowing the lawn, when you live here now?"

"Horticulture ain't my bag, baby."

I choked on my reply. "Hort-_what_?"

"You never have Mrs. Abrahams for English?" I just stared at him. Sometimes it was like dropping from one conversation to another, completely different one, at random. He grinned. "'_Word of the day'_ that was her thing. I took her class three times. 'Horticulture' is gardening."

"How was she on handwriting?" I demanded, waving the pen again, in a threatening manner. "Write to Steve!"

xxXxx

A few weeks later, I looked up from what I was reading.

"Mathews, are you completely crazy?" I yelled.

His voice came back from the kitchen. "Why in particular?"

"Steve says that wasn't a letter you sent. It was a page of dirty jokes!"

Two-Bit appeared in the doorway. "So?" He pulled a face at Jay, who was standing on the couch next to me. Jay leaned over the back of the couch to try and reach him.

"So? You were supposed to be writing a letter."

"Nah. You said 'write to Steve', I remember that clearly. You didn't issue no further instructions. 'Sides I don't hold with censorship of the written word..."

I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, Steve says thanks. But you got the punch line to the one about the rabbit wrong."

"The hell he says..."

"Two-Bit!" I was desperately trying to get him to stop cussing around Jay.

"Toobit!" Jay repeated in the same exasperated tone. He bounced happily on the couch as I laughed.

The biggest grin I had ever seen spread itself across Two-Bit's face. He gestured aimlessly with his finger, like the word was hanging in the air between us. He opened his mouth and then shut it again.

"Wow, Jay, you're a real clever boy!" I said. "You just made your Uncle Two-Bit speechless. Great job!"

xxXxx

Okay, it was early. Real early. Sadly it was also the time I was getting used to being woken up these days. But that next morning, I lay in my bed, perfectly cozy, with a wicked smile on my face.

I heard the thud of Two-Bit's feet hitting the floor and the muffled groan that went with his up-to-now-unaccustomed wake up call, as he staggered out of his room.

The rattle of the crib side was something I was used to hearing, every morning, or even after nap time. Jay loved to stand and shake the bars with his little fists. He also yelled for me. Usually.

But that morning as I snuggled back down into my pillow, I chuckled as I heard:

"Toobit! Toobit! Toobit!"

Be careful what you wish for, right?

xxXxx

I was real pleased to see Elle again. I was more than impressed that she was going to the University of Tulsa and studying Art.

She already looked like a student to me. Although I guess we'd both been in funeral-best last time we'd met. But now her hair was longer and looser and darker – she was using a henna rinse I reckoned - and she was working a peasant blouse and beads. Kind of a smart hippie look. I would definitely have picked her for an Art geek.

She'd brought a teddy bear for Jay. A real squashy panda, to be exact.

"Oh, is it stupid? It's stupid, right? He's probably got hundreds already..."

I told her no, that he would love it. She admired the new colors on the walls as she came in and sat down.

"I just wanted to show you, I guess," she said nervously, "that it's just Mom being a pill, I don't have a problem with you and Steve having...I mean... Oh, my. I can't say that, can I? 'Cause it ain't you and Steve having a baby. Oh hell."

I laughed at her embarrassment. "It's okay. I get it, honest."

Steve's Aunt Beth had sent us a hideous table cloth and napkin set when she found out we were married, but she remained conspicuously silent on the arrival of Jay in our lives. She wrote to Steve, he'd told me one time, and her letters were full of messages of encouragement as far as him fighting in a war went; being a father out of marriage however was not something that she was happy about.

I asked Elle about her dorm and her roommate. She seemed happy enough. She did say that, back last year when she applied to colleges, she'd kind of hoped to see more of Steve if she got into TU.

"Well, you'll still be there, when he gets back," I told her. "And I hope you'll still come here, in the meantime, as often as you want. 'Course, there's _my _roommate to factor into that little decision..."

Jay started chattering, waking up from his nap. I asked if she wanted to come see him get up. She was struck, like most people, by how much he looked like Steve. His hair was all sticking up in curls, fresh from his sleeping and I smoothed it down, kissing his head.

Jay looked at Elle shyly.

"These are great." She said about the horses on the wall. I told her Ponyboy had painted them. Jay started to get excited.

"No, Pony ain't here, sweetie. No Pony right now." I shook my head at him and he pouted. I told Elle that Jay loved all the guys, because they made such a fuss of him.

"Ponyboy did these? He's really good. Is he taking Art this year?"

I told her about Pony's decision, to delay college. She nodded seriously.

"I can understand, I think."

About an hour later, the front door banged open. Jay looked up and clapped his hands.

"Toobit!"

And it was.

"Hey, Tink, did I leave a piece of paper with an address on it, this morning...?" he called as he headed for his room and then almost immediately poked his head in the front room. "Got it – oh, hey! Elle, good to see ya!"

"Hi, Two-Bit," she said. Very calmly. We'd been discussing the fact that he had moved in, so I guess it just wasn't a surprise to her that he turned up.

Jay was up and heading over to him, but Two-Bit gave him a quick hug and said he was late meeting a guy about some stuff, so he couldn't stay. He told Elle he hoped to see her properly soon. I went and pulled Jay away, distracting him with his new panda.

Elle was looking at the now empty doorway. "So, how is he as a roommate?" she asked.

"Surprisingly good. Although I think he may still be on his best behavior. I know for a fact he wasn't never this tidy at home." I grinned. "And he's real good with Jay."

"Is it weird when he brings girls back?"

"He don't. At least not yet." Truthfully, I wasn't sure what we were going to do about that. Miss Nelson hadn't exactly laid down rules, but she had murmured about 'suitable conduct'. I didn't think Maggie had exactly let him have sleepovers, not with his kid sister around, so he must have been used to working something out with his dates. I just assumed he still was.

Although, now that Elle mentioned it, I realized that Two-Bit had been home every night to sleep since he moved in. Hell. He was taking his promise to Steve real serious. I would have to tell him he could still have fun, even if he was living here now.

xxXxx

Late one evening, as I was doing dishes and waiting for Two-Bit to show up, I nearly jumped out of my skin as Ponyboy exploded through the back door at a speed that sent him skidding against the kitchen cabinets. "_Holy- ! _Pony! What the...?" I stared at him.

He sucked in huge gulps of air, leaning over, one hand on the counter top. Sweat was dripping off his face and his t shirt was plastered to him. When he raised his eyes to mine, he was shaking.

I put down the plate I'd been washing, carefully; something was wrong. Real wrong.

I mean, I'd seen the kid run – one time he bet Soda that he could beat him back from the Tasty Freeze, with him running and Soda driving. Pony shot away and we all scrambled into the car. Of course, he could cut corners and use alleyways, so we didn't even see him for most of the way. And it was damn close. If the lights had been against us, I reckon he would've done it.

The point was, even then he wasn't as breathless as he was now. How far, how fast, had he been running before he got here?

I didn't bother with questions, I was waiting until he had enough air to speak. But then, instead of words, came tears.

Ponyboy started sobbing, his face crumpling and his lip wobbling, ragged, noisy wails lurching out of him. I took a step towards him, then stopped. Jesus, was he hurt? I couldn't see any blood, no scrapes, no bruises... I heard myself ask him what the hell was wrong.

"_Soda_," he gasped. "Soda got the letter. He got the fucking letter."

"What? What letter?" Every piece of mail that I focused on came from Steve. 'Letter' meant 'Steve' to me.

Pony scrubbed his hand across his face, although fresh tears immediately sprang up. "_Soda got drafted_." He looked terrified, looked like he was going to throw up, looked like his whole world had just been ripped away from him.

"Oh, Pony. Oh, God, baby." I threw my arms around him and he sobbed against my shoulder, although he had to bend down to do it. Over and over he railed at the unfairness, the absolute unfairness, that his brother should be taken away from him.

He didn't talk about Vietnam, about the politics. None of the things he'd said when Steve was drafted, or whenever it was discussed and he listed all the reasons this particular war was wrong and all war was bad. He was real clever and he had a heap of different facts and arguments that he could explain.

But right then, all that he was saying was how much he loved Soda and how much he couldn't stand for him to go away.

I didn't interrupt him, I just let him get it all out.

Eventually, he calmed down and shut up and subsided into sniffs. It reminded me a little of Jay, when he bawled because he was tired and finally gave into sleep, winding down slowly as I rocked him in my arms.

Pony stood back, wiping the back of his hand under his nose, not meeting my eyes. "I'm sorry."

"What the hell you sorry for?" I asked quietly.

"With Steve an' all. I ain't got the right to lay this on you too."

"Are you kidding?" I kept my tone gentle. "Who better than me to understand?"

He tried for a wobbly smile, moving to the sink and turning on the faucet. When he'd splashed water over his face, he dried it off with his arm and leaned on the edge of the counter, taking a deep breath.

"He's gonna think I'm a coward."

"Who? Soda? Why?"

"I didn't even stay to watch him open the envelope. I mean, we knew what it was, right when Darry brought the mail in, we could see...but I just ran..."

I had a thought. "Did you come straight here?"

He shrugged. I think he genuinely didn't know.

"Okay. So we should probably let them know you're okay. You wanna call?"

Pony shook his head. "What would I...? I can't..."

I told him not to worry. Told him to get himself a drink from the ice box, while I dialed the phone.

"_Pony?"_ Soda must have snatched the receiver up on the first ring.

"No. It's me. But he's here, at my place." I swallowed. I heard him tell Darry that Pony was with me. "Oh, Soda -"

"He okay?" He cut across me, although what I'd been going to say I didn't know.

"Uh...Not so much." The only honest answer I could give him. "Listen, I would drive him, but Jay's in bed and Two-Bit didn't get in yet an'..."

"We're coming." He didn't even say goodbye, just hung up. But really, what was the point of manners in a situation like this?

I half expected Pony to have helped himself to one of Two-Bit's beers. But I turned around and found him stirring a sachet of malted chocolate Great Shakes into a glass of milk. He knew where I kept all of the stuff, he'd done it enough times before.

I admit that sometimes it was hard to reconcile the broader shouldered, taller guy with the little brother of even a year ago. And I was probably guilty of lumping him in with the rest of the guys most of the time, even though he was younger. Besides, Lord knew, Soda could still drink gallons of chocolate milk when he wanted to. But right then, Ponyboy looked about twelve years old and I just wanted to hug him again. He was making a real effort to stay calm though, so I didn't. We went into the front room and he sat very still and watched his feet.

There was nothing I could say to make this all right. I just sat there with him, remembering how it had been when Steve got his notice, how things had started slipping away from us, out of our control. I knew this was not going to get better for Pony or any of them. What could I possibly have said?

When I opened the front door a few minutes later, something unexpected happened. I waited for Soda to rush over to Pony, but he held back, looking sick, not coming all the way into the room. He asked Pony if he was okay, but it was Darry who went over and wrapped an arm around his shoulders as he tried to stop himself from bawling all over again. Soda stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, a strange, haunted expression on his face.

"We gotta go home, Pony," he said in the same blank tone he'd used when he asked if his little brother was okay.

"You don't have to - " I started but he turned to me, slowly, and the words died on my lips. I knew then that there wouldn't be any talk of Canada this time. He was already gone, in his mind.

Darry had looked up, eyes narrowed, at Soda's words. But Pony was slower to respond. He stood up.

"You ain't gonna fight this, are ya?" he asked quietly. "You ain't even gonna try to get out of it..." and he crossed the room in two long strides and smacked his fist into Soda's chin.

Soda reeled back. Pony yelled into the space between them:

"You could fight this! You could burn your notice! _Please._ Mom would've said –" He stopped, as Soda moved like lightning, grabbing Pony around the back of the neck and pulling his forehead against his own, bumping their heads together.

"You don't get to say that." Soda's voice was hoarse. He gripped Pony's head in both of his hands, keeping them together. "Don't you bring Mom into it." He dropped his arms and wrapped himself around Ponyboy. "_Don't_."

Pony sagged against him, crying again. Soda bowed his head down too. Darry came slowly over to them. He looked like was wading through concrete, like he was a hundred years old.

I registered that Jay had started up whimpering, probably woken by Pony's yelling.

While I was in the little room, soothing Jay back to sleep, I heard the front door click closed.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, I did it. Don't hate me, just let me know what you think! **


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Josefin, I think you might have been waiting for something in this chapter! ;)**

* * *

Inevitably, I guess, there were differences between the way that Soda and Jo reacted and the way that Steve and I had been. No one knew what had been said between us, that first night, and no one was there when he told her. But she told me later that she didn't beg him not to go, like I had with Steve. She'd been too stunned to do that.

I guess she cried some, because she sure did the first time we were alone together. She came over after work, looking for answers I couldn't give her:

"How did you stand it, Evie? How do you cope?"

_Sometimes I didn't_, I thought, remembering those first days and weeks. _Sometimes I still don't. _

I didn't say that to her, of course. I said all the right things, all the sensible things, all the fucking _grown up_ things that people had said to me. I wondered if they all knew they were being hypocrites too.

Later that night, on my own, once Jay was asleep, I got a little lit. Wondering if all of us girls, sending good vibes to all of our guys, were even making any difference. If the world, the universe, just chugged along regardless of our hopes and fears.

"This a private party?" Two-Bit rocked up, from wherever he'd been. It wasn't late, maybe a little after eleven, and he was in no way loaded. He sat on the couch with me, nodded at the vodka bottle. "You okay?"

I reported the sum of my thinking so far. "The universe hates us."

"Oh, that," he said calmly. "You only just now working that out?"

I rested my head on his shoulder and he shifted his arm to let me get comfortable. He smelled of beer and cigarettes. But his cologne was different from Steve's. I wanted Steve.

"I told Jo a lie today. Told her it gets better. That it don't hurt so bad, once you get used to someone being away."

"Yeah? That's good then. 'Cause I told Soda a lie too."

"What?"

"Told him I never heard you cryin' in the middle of the night."

xxXxx

Two-Bit had this crazy idea to be Soda's last customer at the DX. We drove over there and he cruised up and down the street, timing it to the last minute of Soda's shift ending.

I wondered if I'd ever have the guts to get gas there again. It had been hard enough, knowing it would just be Soda, or useless Dean, when I pulled in. Those were the shifts I tried to aim for. Because I hated the new guy, even though I knew that wasn't fair.

Their boss had said he would have both guys back, that he would see to it that both Steve and Soda had a job to come home to. But he still had a business to run and of course, in the meantime, he'd given Steve's shifts to some new guy. It about killed me to see him come out of the workshop.

Soda and Dean were links to Steve, the new guy represented something else.

After he filled the tank and took the money, Soda jumped into the back of the Chevy. Two-Bit drove it as much as me these days. We were planning on swinging by Ma's to pick up Jay and then heading over to Soda's for what none of us was calling a farewell party. There were two days until he left. Two-Bit teased him, but Soda made it clear that there wouldn't be a last minute wedding like mine:

"It ain't that I don't love her. But Jo wanted it done right. We were saving up, to do it right. And this way, we get two more years to save up." He paused. Blinked. "Oh. I ain't saying nothing 'gainst the way you an' Steve..." I reassured him that I knew that he wasn't criticizing us. "I'mma marry her when I come home," he continued, "'cause that means I'mma come home."

_Oh God. What kind of reasoning was that? _

"Of course you're gonna come home." I said firmly. Jeez, I was a genius with the right things to say.

"You should gimme a kiss." Soda flashed a cheeky grin. "Then I can give it to Steve when I see him." Again with the skewed reasoning. There was no guarantee he would run into Steve. Vietnam was a huge place. I wondered if Steve even had our letters yet, telling him that Soda was drafted. It was weird, imagining the time lag between when I put something down on paper and when he actually read it. I refused to consider what it could mean the other way around.

"Thing is, Sodapop," I said, as if his suggestion deserved serious consideration. "I could care less if you get your pansy ass kicked by all them soldiers for kissing another guy, but I sure as hell ain't having it happen to Steve..."

"Ha!" Two-Bit chuckled. "Maybe you shoulda thought that through, Soda."

xxXxx

Jo had asked me, of course, ahead of time, so I had a bag packed with both my and Jay's gear for the night and I'd told Two-Bit to get organized too. For once, we were _all_ having a sleepover. Because, after we hung out some, ate the pizza that Ponyboy insisted on springing for with his own money – he was doing some tutoring and picking up shifts at the warehouse, thanks to Lynette and Jo, while he saved for college - after all that, Jo told Soda they were taking a little trip.

She had my house key in her pocket.

I'd asked her if she was sure, when she told me what she had planned. She smiled sadly.

"Evie, I was never more sure about anything in my life."

I'd put clean sheets on my bed, filled the room with flowers. Jo had considered a motel, even one of the swanky hotels across town, but in the end, she said that felt too wrong, too calculated. Too pressured.

"This is the only time I'm gonna say this out loud." She was fighting to stay calm when she told me. "But if something happens to him an' he don't come back...I ain't spending the rest of my life wondering."

xxXxx

I shared Soda's room with Jay, who took this unexpected event in his stride. The Curtis boys used the travel crib still, switching it from room to room, depending on who was on official babysitting duty. Jay was happy wherever. He was also capable of climbing out of the crib now, so whoever was around had to be even more eagle eyed.

There wasn't a moment when I wasn't grateful for everyone in my life, in Jay's life. I honestly felt like that kid was being raised by group effort.

Two-Bit planned to go home to his mom's for the night, but in the end he crashed on the couch. He and Darry were talking late into the night. I fell asleep to the low murmur of their voices.

Darry and Pony had both reached a state of robot-like calm. It was like the whole house was focused on not upsetting Soda. Not stressing Soda. Not giving him a second's worth of anything resembling a bad memory.

If they thought Soda was buying it, they were mistaken. But the part that he was playing was still that of cheerful optimist, so everyone was tiptoeing around, pretending that everything was groovy, while inside we were all twisted and sad.

I remembered what he'd said, that time we drove back from Fort Sill, how he'd tried to make his last conversation with Steve important, or at least not meaningless. That was an impossible challenge, I thought, if he was doing that now, with everyone.

Jay woke me up by climbing into bed with me, chattering a stream of nonsense. This was fun to him, to have me there. I dragged on some clothes and carried him with me to fix him some breakfast. Darry was already on his way to work and Jay's enthusiastic 'bye bye's woke up Two-Bit. He headed off, to open up the junk store. He asked if he should bring Elle home for dinner and, of course, I said yes. She was going over after class to get shown around Two-Bit's empire, because she'd mentioned that she would appreciate some part time work, if we heard of anything, and that fitted real well, since one of the kids who'd been working for Two-Bit had just quit. If Elle worked Saturdays, maybe the odd afternoon, Two-Bit could keep babysitting and I could keep working. And we'd get to see her more regular, which would be good. I really liked her.

It was lunchtime by the time Soda and Jo reappeared.

Pony had spent some time playing with Jay while I cleaned up the house from the pizza party. He'd been reading '_Are You My Mother?_' to the toddler, doing all the voices as the little bird asks the various things the question and they answer. Pony was real entertaining at it. I didn't know why the mother bird had to sound like Katherine Hepburn, but it seemed to work.

Afterwards, Pony asked me quietly if it was an issue for me, that Jay wasn't mine. We were watching the kid carefully lining up some little plastic horses on the edge of the coffee table. He had a toy box at the Curtis place, same as at home, with some of Pony and Soda's old things – apparently it wasn't just Carol who kept stuff in the attic, they'd found toys and books, all kinds of stuff that their parents had boxed up. There were newer toys too, from his birthday and just because. Nobody was immune from buying things for him.

I told him no, it wasn't an issue. I loved Jay.

"'Cause he gets it, in the story, that the little bird has a mama. Did you hear him? He joins in and says 'no mama' to all the other things." Pony shrugged. "He must think you're his mom now."

I thought a second. "It's just a word, ain't it? He calls me 'Vevie', you know that. Same as he says 'Dada' to Steve's picture, but sometimes he tries to say 'Steve', same as us." My turn to shrug. "I guess we'll tell him about Becky, when he's old enough to understand."

Pony nodded thoughtfully. "Soda would've taken on Sandy's baby. He said that."

_Whoa_. Where did that come from? Pony was a hell of a thinker, once his mind got on a subject. I nodded. "Yeah, I know he said that. It wouldn't have been right though, for them to be together. She didn't love him."

"That's it, ain't it? Love. That's what makes a family. Don't matter who's got the same blood as who, if it ain't about love."

Pony was looking at Jay, but I was pretty sure he was thinking about someone else. I never got to ask him, though, because Jay got frustrated when the horses wouldn't fit the way he wanted, and he smacked one down, then howled, because he hurt his hand. I kissed it and distracted him with something else and then we heard Soda and Jo coming in.

Jay demanded that Soda play with him, hanging on his leg and chanting his name until Soda picked him up and threw him in the air.

Jo handed back my key. I didn't have to ask if it had been the right decision; her eyes were shining and the way the two of them looked at each other, they were even more in love if that could be possible.

Then I saw it.

"Jo!" I grabbed her hand and inspected the ring. "Is that...?"

She grinned at me and at the small but perfect diamond. "Yeah. I wasn't the only one with a surprise up my sleeve last night."

I hugged both of them, congratulating them. Pony was right behind me.

"You never said!" He thumped Soda on the back as he hugged him. Soda laughed.

"Hardest secret I ever kept."

I rolled my eyes. Probably the _only_ secret he ever kept, if he stopped to think about that properly. But, _engaged?_ I was real happy for them. It made a lot of sense of his insistence that he was marrying Jo on his return.

Once it got time for Pony to go to work, I scooped up Jay and headed for home. I wasn't going to the bus station the next day. Soda hadn't issued any demands, like Steve, but I just didn't think I could stand it. That wasn't the only difference in their leaving. I'd asked Soda if he wanted Sarah to cut his hair, but he told me no, and in no uncertain terms; he was holding onto it until the last possible second.

I hugged him goodbye. "You stay safe, Sodapop." I thought about his 'last words' fixation, but I genuinely couldn't think what else made any sense at that point.

"Don't worry," he told me, cheerfully enough. "It's all gonna be fine."

"Of course it is," I lied right back.

Because how could we know? No matter how many times we all said it, how the hell could we know?

xxXxx

It had started to become real important to me that we got good photos, when milestones happened; Jay walking for real, his first birthday party, the list went on and on as time went by.

Too many moments that Steve was missing.

I couldn't rely on Jo being around all the time with her Polaroid, so I was working out if I could afford a camera, when Two-Bit brought me one that he had 'happened to find'. I was grateful enough not to ask too many questions.

The only thing I hated about photos was the uncertainty; you think you took a great shot and then it comes back from processing and the kid had his eyes crossed or someone was blinking. The woman in the drug store didn't take too many visits to work out why I was so desperate for the photos to be good. She started to give me extra copies on the sly.

My favorite was one I had taken of Jay looking incredibly cute, asleep on the Curtis couch, with his monkey, 'Wrench', tucked under his arm. I thought Steve would get a kick out of that - and thanks to the assistant, I had one for myself, as well as a copy to send to him. She could obviously see them as they were processed by the machine and, once we'd had a conversation about where Steve was, and how old Jay was, and that kind of thing, she began copying the cutest ones without my even asking her.

Maybe I didn't snoop too much about where the camera came from in the first place, but I did make sure Two-Bit wasn't lifting the film from her store. She was real kind and it didn't seem fair. Anyway, being the respectable businessman these days, he barely kept up practice at the old five finger discount. I guess being on the other side of the cash register was changing his view. Plus, he had money these days. He was real good at dealing, and he spotted good stuff in among the junk and sold it on to genuine antique collectors.

When Steve sent me a new picture of himself in uniform - lounging on some jungly-looking tree stump in an open shirt, looking impossibly tough with a rifle propped on his knee - I scoured the junk store for a decent frame, but I also had the print copied. One for the mantle, one for Jay. The woman in the store cooed over how handsome Steve looked and slipped me a wallet sized copy for free.

Now, with two picture frames, Jay had something to kiss goodnight at home _and_ at the Curtis house, on his sleepovers. Because his routine was always: _bath, storybook, say 'good night' to Daddy_. I knew the guys replicated it, no matter who was babysitting.

The rest of it varied, depending on whose turn it was; Soda had usually ended up more soaked than Jay, if he bathed him, because he initiated wild splashing games. And Jay definitely preferred Pony to read to him, out of anybody – because of all the voices of the characters he did. His '_Cat in the Hat'_ was a full on Hollywood performance. The cat was Cary Grant. Darry had a surprisingly good line in lullabies – mostly Elvis, with a few old blues standards thrown in. He was particularly good at calming Jay down. I smiled when I remembered how he'd been against the idea of Steve keeping Jay, in the first place. He was a very different 'Uncle Darry' now, even if he was more about manners and routine than the others.

At home, on the other hand, and more than once, I'd peeked into the little room to find Two-Bit fast asleep next to the crib, while Jay was still playing happily.

But no matter where, and no matter who was in charge, Jay always went to bed having kissed the picture of Steve. And I kept that wallet sized print under my pillow.

Because I did too.


	20. Chapter 20

_**November 1967...**_

I parked the stroller at the bottom of the steps. Jay was wide awake, so I didn't need to try to bump it all the way up. I picked him up and answered him absently as he chattered on, a nonsense mixture of 'Pony/Soda/Darry'. Smart kid, he knew damn well where we were.

I had never had the guts to say to him that Soda wouldn't be there. Part of me was surprised that he still thought about Soda; five weeks was a long time in his little life.

But then, we all still talked about Soda a lot, used his name all the time. He'd been gone for his birthday, just like Steve had for his, but the rest of us still 'celebrated'. Maybe, in Jay's mind, it seemed like Soda had always just stepped out, right before we got there. I guessed that wouldn't last forever, though. And I wondered how it would work with how he thought about Steve. No matter how much we used _his_ name, there was no way Jay could remember Steve.

That was a real sadness for me.

Pushing open the front door without knocking was no longer a novelty to me, it was just how it was at this house. I often had to shout hello, if the guys were elsewhere around the place. Not this time, though.

I pulled up short. Darry was right in front of me, in the armchair.

Jay jabbered his name, but didn't get a response. My blood ran cold.

"Darry?" I couldn't quite believe what I was seeing.

See, I'd seen him angry, drunk, worried, so quiet you forgot he was in the room. Definitely seen him yelling, but also – one time - dancing and singing along to Frank Sinatra, when he thought he was on his own, cleaning up the kitchen, with the radio turned real loud.

But I'd never seen Darry Curtis cry before.

He was hunched on the edge of the armchair with the phone in his hand, although I could hear the dial tone from where I stood; the line was dead. And he was weeping.

Jay was squirming in my arms. I crossed the room and let him down unceremoniously, in front of the crate with his toys. He dived right in, as I turned back to Darry.

"_What_...?" I was afraid to ask. Something bad. Oh, shit, it had to be something real bad. Too soon for Soda to go overseas, he was only in Basic, and why would they call here about Steve? He hadn't put the Curtis house as his contact number. Had he?

Darry looked up, apparently only just noticing that he was still holding the phone. He put it down carefully. Then he scrubbed his face with his hand, without seeming to mind that I'd seen him in tears.

"Soda was hurt in training." He started to smile and I couldn't make sense of that. 'Hurt' was bad, wasn't it? But Darry grinned from ear to ear. "His old leg injury went. He tore the ligament clean through this time. He got downgraded to 4F." He stood up slowly, starting to laugh. "4F! He ain't going. He's coming home, Evie. He ain't going to Vietnam!"

I sucked in a huge gasp, and it was just as well, because he picked me up in a bear hug and swung me around, until I couldn't breathe.

Jay shrieked with laughter and demanded to be included. Darry swooped him up, flying him around the room.

"How'd ya like that, little man? Your Uncle Soda's coming home!" Darry looked about ten years younger.

"Where's Pony?" I asked. "You have to tell him."

Darry grinned like his face was going to split in two. "He's workin' at the warehouse. I'll drive over there, huh? Then I can tell Jo, too." I nodded. Told him to do it. Said I would call Two-Bit at the store.

But I didn't get to it right away. Because when Darry had leaped down the porch steps and roared away in his truck, I sat on the couch and cried quietly for a few minutes. I didn't begrudge Soda his stroke of luck, not one bit. Christ knew those boys deserved a break. He deserved to be safe at home.

But what about Steve? Oh, God. What about Steve?

xxXxx

Soda came home in a full leg cast, on crutches.

It must have been one hell of an uncomfortable ride on those buses. Darry went to fetch him from the bus station and he told Two-Bit later that Soda was wrung out by the time he got home. Darry complained bitterly that he would have fetched Soda all the way from Fort Sill, if the Army had given him warning.

"They just dumped him on a bus and left him to it. None of their concern anymore!"

We went over the next day and Jay took one look at Soda and burst into tears. At first we thought it was the cast that was freaking the kid out, but even when Soda maneuvered his way onto the couch and sat down, Jay still wouldn't go near him.

"No Soda," he kept saying, between sobs, hiding his face in my legs. I had to physically move him off me, to be able to give Soda a hug hello myself. He said hey to me quietly.

He looked real tired, dark circles shadowed his eyes. He was kind of thin, even. Turned out he'd been in pain with his knee for most of Basic, hiding it as best he could, until the instructors made everyone jump off some high wall. How that made you a better soldier I had no clue; in any case, it had done for Soda's knee and he'd ended up in the base hospital. It took the most part of a week for them to believe that he couldn't walk and for them to X-ray him. I guess guys fake injuries fairly often.

The fact that the damage showed on the X-ray was what got him discharged, 4-F. If it was a partial tear, nothing would have showed, but part of his ligament had ripped right off the bone. Even when the cast came off, he would likely need surgery on his knee and it might take six months or more to get better. It also might never get better.

God help me, it still seemed like a small price to pay. I thought that as I watched Jo's face, the way she never took her eyes off him, barely left his side, the whole time.

Pony came into the house and Jay launched himself forwards before he'd had time to cross the room. Pony sat on the very end of the couch, leaving room for Soda's cast. Jay was still a bit teary and he climbed up onto Pony's lap, sniveling and sniffing his jumbled almost-words. They often had a kind of conversation that not everyone else always followed, although I couldn't be sure that Pony wasn't just putting his own interpretation on the toddler nonsense that Jay jabbered.

This time though, Jay was definitely not making sense.

"What's the deal with this?" Pony frowned. Jay was hugging him tight around the neck for some reason. I told him that Jay had freaked on seeing Soda. "Aw, little buddy, ain't you glad to see him?" Pony asked, reaching up to stop Jay, who was now tugging on his hair. "Ow.._Oh_." He grinned at us, then stood up, carrying Jay with him to the other end of the couch, where he perched on the arm. "I know what his problem is." He reached over and rubbed Soda's short hair. Jay squeaked in alarm. "Nah, chill. It's still Soda..." And Pony took Jay's hand and rubbed it on Soda's crew cut.

Jay looked like he might start bawling again, but Soda smiled a real smile for the first time since we'd got there.

"Hey, Jay, you wanna know a secret?" He rubbed his own head. Jay reached out tentatively to touch the short hair. Soda smiled again. "Kind of made me cry too, the first time I saw it all gone."

We all laughed and Jay wriggled off Pony's lap, down to Soda. He patted his face and then his hair again.

"Sodaaaa!" he announced, throwing himself onto Soda in an enthusiastic embrace.

Soda grabbed him into a hug, that turned into a tickle. "Yeah, little buddy. I'm back!"

xxXxx

More than one of my teachers would have been amazed to see the amount of time I had a pen in my hands these days. I _always_ had a letter to Steve on the go, I'd start the next one as soon as I'd licked the envelope on the one ready to mail. I'd tell him about Jay, obviously, but I also wrote him news about Sarah and little Toni – including the fact that Sarah hated that nickname. But seriously, did she expect everyone to get their tongue around the full 'Antonia' every single time? I told him about what the guys were up to; when Pony had his heart broken by the rebound girl; when Darry took Lynette away for the weekend to some cabin – _and_ what she told us about it afterwards.

I knew they were writing him too, but I needed that ongoing 'conversation', I needed to pretend I heard him talking back, even when any comment he made in his own letters would only reach me weeks later.

By contrast to my random collection of chatterings, Steve's letters were usually much the same; it was hot, the bugs were annoying, the other guys were annoying. I could care less. He could have written just: 'Dear Evie, Love Steve' and I'd have been happy, as long as the letters kept coming regularly.

The worst weeks were the ones with no mail. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't _not _check the mail box every day. I even knew the times of the mailman's route. I was pretty sure that he tried to avoid me, 'cause he definitely rushed past when he saw me coming, if it was a day with no letter. I guess I looked as desperate as I felt.

It wasn't always Steve's fault. Sometimes, there would be a couple of weeks, or – more than once – a month with nothing, and I'd be driving myself mad with worry, then sometimes there would come a day with two, or even three letters, in one delivery. Different dates of sending, they just all got bunched together at some point over there and made it back here at the same time.

Messages for Thanksgiving, my birthday in December, Christmas, everything was slightly out of whack, even if Steve tried to mail it in time. I kept every word he sent, in a box on my dresser.

As time went on, even Jay got to know that the mail was important to me, even if he didn't understand why. Sometimes I'd be opening a bill, or something like that, and he would look up at me and say, "Daddy say hi," because he associated letters with me telling him that.

xxXxx

Ponyboy never knew that I overheard him and Two-Bit talking. It was the date, of course, that was the topic; wasn't one of us didn't know when it was six months since Steve shipped out. Because that meant it was also six months until he came home.

Or, it should have been.

Because the cruelest twist was this: to get the 'early out', the chance to come straight home, instead of serving out the whole, two year tour of duty, meant – as well as sacrificing all that leave – Steve had to volunteer three extra months out there in Vietnam. That way, he'd be within the magic number of days and get an immediate discharge when he landed. That was why he'd tried to add on extra training before he went, to chip away at those three months.

It was like the worst kind of diabolic gamble.

At the six month point, though, I didn't know that yet. And what Ponyboy was telling Two-Bit was that he had heard, from people who knew guys over there and guys who'd come back, that the second half of the tour was more dangerous. 'Counting down' was dangerous. It meant the soldier was focused on coming home, not on doing his job. Apparently this was a known problem.

I wanted to scream and throw things. What the hell was the alternative? To _not_ tell men when they would be coming home? Have it be a fucking surprise? How were they meant to not think about coming home? _Everything_ reminded me about Steve not being there.

Thanksgiving was hard. It about killed me to see Sarah and Tony be thankful for their daughter, _together_. My birthday, which was right around that six month point, was worse. Luckily even Sarah had the sense not to tell me to 'make a wish'. Like I wasn't wishing the same damn thing every freaking day, regardless of a cake and candles.

Steve and I were both nineteen now. But he would be twenty when I next saw him. I felt like time had been physically stolen from me.

Christmas was toughest of all. Jay was sixteen months old. Not old enough to really understand what was happening but plenty old enough to get over excited and be fed too much candy and have a huge tantrum over some teddy bear that Toni had been given and he decided he wanted. He threw a massive temper fit and screamed until he puked.

We were supposed to sleep over at Ma's, but I bailed at that point. I just wanted a little peace and quiet, so I took Jay home. Of course, once we were there and I got him bathed and into his crib, where he sank into a deep sleep immediately, I regretted it. Now it was too quiet.

I sat on the front porch, smoking. Darry was adamant that smoke was bad for little kids and everyone fell into new habits pretty quick. And I had to admit, the house smelled better if we kept the weeds outside. It was probably even good for us too - plenty of times I decided it was too cold to stand outside, so I went without. Right then, though, I was putting up with the low temperature.

It was dark, but the streetlight hadn't been bust for a little while. Maybe the cold weather was keeping the baby hoods indoors. So, I could see the figure trudging along, hands deep in his jacket pockets.

He stopped at the gate.

"Evie? I didn't think you were home today."

I told Pony about Jay's performance and that I'd bugged out. "How come you're wandering the streets?" I asked.

He shrugged, coming up to the porch. "Is it allowed? To say 'I don't like Christmas'?"

"Sure it is." I stubbed out my cigarette, suddenly feeling the cold. "You want a drink?"

We sat in the kitchen, where neither of us had to look at the scrawny tree that Two-Bit had dragged in. He'd looked in the attic for decorations, declared that it was unnaturally tidy and given up. We'd settled for a few half hearted popcorn garlands and some candy canes that I was praying Jay wouldn't work out were edible.

I didn't want to dwell on what Christmas had been like for Steve as a kid. He hadn't bothered with a tree or anything after Eddie died last year, but I had a suspicion that it wasn't just Two-Bit searching ineffectively. There might not be any decorations up there.

I sipped my beer.

"Is this gonna get me in trouble with Two-Bit?" Pony asked, as he tipped his own bottle back. I shrugged.

"Only if he catches you," came a voice from the back door, making the both of us jump out of our skins. Two-Bit grinned. He pulled up a chair. "Ma and the squirt got to watching some sappy movie on the TV. Figured I'd bail. Anyone wanna play a little Christmas poker?"

xxXxx

Even when Soda's cast came off, he didn't make it back to work at the DX for more than a few days. His knee was in a brace still and he was supposed to carry on using a crutch for a while, so he really couldn't do much other than work the register anyway – juggling a crutch at the pumps was crazy and he had difficulty getting down to work under cars.

He was resistant to the idea of surgery. He even went as far as saying that he didn't care if he had a limp for the rest of his life. It was no secret that he had hated every second of his time at Fort Sill and I admit that I wondered if he was afraid to get fixed up, in case the Army changed its mind.

I was there when Darry told him not to worry about the dough, to take his time healing up and then he could decide what to do. So, Soda quit the DX. But not working, not doing _something_, was tough on him too. I knew that he didn't like that.

And I was also there when Darry found out where Soda had been spending his days instead.

Spring was happening fast, the weather suddenly warming up, like it'd had enough of Winter overnight. One day, that meant thunder and lightning and a sudden rain storm, so Darry got an early finish. Ponyboy had been minding Jay for me and I arrived at their house at about the same time as Soda.

He waved thanks to whoever had driven him and he limped up the path next to me. He was using just a walking stick by that time, but he still had to hop up the steps. He looked tired, but happy, and he asked me if Jay and I were staying for dinner. We ducked inside, out of the rain, and found not Pony, but Darry, playing on the floor. There was some complicated arrangement of bricks going on, looking fairly advanced for Jay to have done it himself. In fact, Jay was just vrooming a toy car around the mini building site.

"Soda! Play!" was Jay's enthusiastic greeting as he ran into both our legs, hugging us briefly before flinging himself back down. Soda let himself down onto the armchair, wincing as he stretched out his bad knee.

"Yeah, in a second, little bud, okay?" he agreed, "when I get my breath back."

Darry was looking at him carefully. "Where were ya?"

Soda shrugged. "Just out."

Darry's eyes went from Soda's feet – he was wearing muddy boots – to his hair. It had grown some, obviously, in the six months or so that he'd been home, but I realized it wasn't the hair Darry was looking at. I tried to signal discreetly that Soda should get the straw out. He frowned at me.

"What?"

Darry stood up and leaned over him. "You smell like horse."

"New cologne." Soda tried, with a wink. Darry just stared him out. Soda huffed, rolling his eyes. "Aw, Darry..."

"Are you at least getting paid?"

It was our turn to stare. Darry shrugged. "What would I be worried about, little buddy? You wreckin' your knee?" He laughed. "I figure I'm outta reasons to keep you away from the stables, but if you're working there, I hope it ain't for free."

Soda's face was a picture. "Are you serious?"

"Glory, Soda. You're nineteen years old. They took you away for a war and there was nothing I could do. What the hell is the point of stopping you from doing something you set your heart on?" He sat back on the floor.

Soda grinned. "And people say you're a grumpy ba..._sket_..." He changed what he'd been about to say, with a guilty glance at Jay. Darry reached out an arm and launched a pillow at Soda, without even looking in his direction.

Jay clapped his hands in appreciation at the 'game' and demanded that he get to throw a pillow too.

* * *

**A/N: _There._ Everyone happy now? I didn't kill Soda! :D**

**And btw, beanchop99 knew about the extended time in Vietnam being needed to get an early-out, back when Steve didn't quite tell Evie the truth in Chapter 12, but ****kindly kept the suspense going by PMing, not mentioning it in a review! Thanks, beanchop. :) **

**A few people have asked me about Steve's thoughts, while he's away. Seems as good a time as any, since Evie mentioned his letters, to point you in the direction of 'Correspondence Theory', a one shot of Steve. **


	21. Chapter 21

_**Spring 1968...**_

After Jo and I spent one afternoon together, she persuaded me to ride with her to fetch Soda home. When we pulled up in the yard of the ranch, Jo got out confidently, heading for the nearest barn; she'd been here before. I followed, slightly nervously, holding Jay tight.

There was more noise than I'd expected, especially the worrying kicks against stalls - plus snorts and snuffles all around - as Jo strode through and out the other end, looking for Soda. I glanced around in case one of the horses was escaping. Jay was very interested, babbling excitedly and pointing at the two or three horses who stuck their heads over the surprisingly flimsy doors of their stalls.

"Me hug hoss," he announced, stretching out his little arms towards a huge brown head. I was telling him 'no' when a voice said,

"Oh, old Princess won't hurt him none, if he wants to pet her."

I turned around. "Barratt?" It was him, complete with cowboy hat.

"Evie? What in the world...?" he said as I asked, "What're you doing here?"

Barratt shrugged. "Work here, of course. My uncle runs the show. I told ya, this is the family place? Must have, back when." Damn, I'd never put two and two together when Soda talked about 'Mac's ranch'. I never even thought to check if it was 'MacIntyre's'. Barratt looked curiously at Jay. "This ain't...?"

I shook my head. "This is my step son." That didn't really help, he still blinked in surprise. So I told him Steve and I were married and that I had Jay living with me.

"Steve Randle, Soda's friend? I know him. Raced him, over to the drags, once or twice." He nodded at me, smiling broadly. "Well, hell, sweetie. Congratulations!" As he kissed me on the cheek, Jo came back in.

"Hey, Barratt," she said a little suspiciously. "You two know each other?"

"Sure do." He grinned. "We go way back, huh, Evie?"

I nodded as we laughed about the fact that we'd never realized we had a connection through Soda now. Jay was almost jumping out my arms by this point.

"Can I?" Barratt took him from me. "Now, little cowboy, this is how we do it." He held Jay's little hand and patted the horse's nose gently. Then he slid Jay's hand along the horse's neck, talking to him about how to be gentle as he did it. Jay was overjoyed and babbled to the horse, smoothing it enthusiastically.

"Lookit, Vevie. Me hug hoss."

"I see ya, JJ." I nodded, taking him back from Barratt, still nervous.

Barratt chuckled. "Don't tell me, you still never got near one of these things?"

I shrugged. "Still ain't a whole lot of 'em, around my neighborhood."

"That don't seem to hold some people back," Jo commented. "Where is Soda, anyway?"

Barratt led us around the back of the stable, to where there was a corral off to one side. Soda was riding. That doesn't do it justice. This wasn't any scrappy bronc battle, to be counted in seconds. That always seemed to me, the few times I'd been near a rodeo, like a fight between man and beast.

Soda was _flying_. He was curving the horse from one end of the corral to the other, in fluid movements that kind of melted him and the horse together. And he was laughing.

Eventually he slowed the horse and walked it over to us, his face lit up in a smile that I hadn't seen in a long while.

"Hey, baby." He blew a kiss to Jo, said 'hi' to me and Jay.

Jay's eyes were huge. He leaned out of my arms. "Soda hoss and me," he said urgently, meaning he wanted to get up with Soda.

"Not this one, little buddy," Soda said. "He's got a mean streak." I stepped back from the fence, warily.

"Seems like you got his number," Barratt told him approvingly. Soda gave a modest shrug and patted the horse's neck.

"Soda!" Jay was demanding loudly.

Soda shook his head. "No. Not this one." Jay pouted.

"Find him another one?" Barratt offered. "We got some real cute little kids' ponies."

I said no thanks. I was pretty sure Steve would come home expressly to skin me, if I let Jay on the back of anything horse shaped.

Soda climbed down, taking the horse's reins with him and made his way to the gate at the end of the corral. His limp was immediately obvious and I realized why he'd seemed so happy, so free, while he was riding. Jo went with him to do whatever you do to put horses away.

Barratt squinted at Jay who was winding up to a tantrum over the horse. "_Kitties_," he said suddenly. "You wanna see some kitties, little bud?" Jay shut up about the horse.

We went over to another barn and Barratt showed us a litter of kittens in the straw. Jay was beside himself with joy, petting them enthusiastically as they tumbled over his legs, once we sat down.

"I thought you weren't gonna work the family business?" I remembered back when we dated, Barratt telling me that he knew horses but wasn't needed to run the ranch. He had three older brothers.

He twisted a piece of straw. "Yeah. Well. Things change. Ray and Joe...well, one got in a car wreck and one got the draft, but the result was the same. Gary's still here, but between you an' me, he ain't no good with stock. He can do the books, but that's about all." He pulled a face. "I was working twenty four seven before Soda came by."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know, about your brothers."

"No reason you should, sweetie." He shook himself. "Life goes on, huh?"

On the ride home, Jo asked how I knew Barratt, of course. When I said we used to date, I saw Soda shoot me a surprised look. He could be as suspicious as he liked; I wouldn't ever tell anyone the details. I owed Barratt that.

Soda eased his leg, with a wince that didn't escape Jo's attention.

She shook her head. "I ain't sure this is doing you any good."

"It don't hurt when I ride. It only hurts when I stop," was his stubborn reply.

xxXxx

One year. The day in June that marked one year of Steve being in Vietnam rolled around. I stared at the space on the calendar like I could burn it with my eyes.

If he came home today, he'd be safe. Maybe he wouldn't be _home_, he'd be in Fort Wherever, but he wouldn't be _there_. Wouldn't be in the jungle. Wouldn't be somewhere people wanted to shoot him or blow him up or...

I hadn't watched the news since forever. But every camera shot I'd ever seen, before Steve went away, was welded into my memory whether I liked it or not. The grainy, black and white images of soldiers became living Technicolor in my dreams, where Steve was always just ahead of me in dense jungle and I had to find him, but my legs wouldn't move, in that way that happens in dreams.

That was what I woke up from, what Two-Bit heard and what he'd lied to Soda about, when he worried about Jo coping when he was drafted. Sometimes I didn't even wake up fully, I just cried, found my pillow wet in the morning.

That night though, the dream was particularly vivid and I threw the sheet off me and walked out the bedroom, wanting to be physically away from the fear and the loneliness and the rest of it.

I cussed, none too quietly, in the kitchen as the faucet sprayed me. For some reason it occasionally slipped full on, even if I only turned it a little. I yanked at it with the dishcloth to turn it off.

"I'll fix that." Two-Bit yawned. He'd been promising that for weeks. I rolled my eyes.

"I ain't holdin' my breath."

He sat down at the table with me. I sipped my glass of water. I wasn't really thirsty, but I needed something to do, something I could pretend to myself was the reason that I was up in the middle of the night.

"He's gonna be okay, Tink." Guess I wasn't fooling anyone. Two-Bit shrugged. "I know it stinks, but we know why he's doin' it. You have to trust his choice."

I couldn't answer. Part of me was disappointed with myself though, because, truthfully, as much as I loved him and missed him, I was also angry with Steve. It seemed like such a gamble, like the draft all over again, to choose another three months in Vietnam over a safe eight months at home.

He was going to miss Jay's second birthday.

I tried for a grateful smile, I knew Two-Bit was trying to be as positive as he could.

"He just wants out." He regarded me with steady gray eyes. "That's what it comes down to. He wants to be back here, with you, as quick as he can." I nodded. "So, all we gotta do is let September come around. And he'll be here." He rubbed his chin. "Now, on that topic. I been thinking. Maybe I should fix up the apartment over the store. 'Cause I ain't itchin' to be a fifth wheel when you two get to play house at last."

_Apartment_ was stretching it as a description. As far as I knew, it was a couple of rooms and a sink. Currently full of the junk that wasn't even nice enough to go in the store.

"You wanna come by, help me see if it's live-able?"

I nodded.

xxXxx

We went over the next Sunday.

I asked Two-Bit if he wouldn't just move home again, when Steve came back. He shook his head as he unlocked the side door, that led up over the store.

"I may give a good impression of being a mama's boy, but comes a time, Tink, for a guy to get out on his own. I figure twenty one is that time."

Two-Bit Mathews's being twenty one and a responsible adult seemed like a contradiction in terms. He also claimed that alcohol had lost its taste, now that it wasn't illegal for him to drink it, although it didn't seem to have put him off altogether.

"I'll miss you," I said, unexpectedly sad at the thought of not having him around all the time.

"Yeah, me an' my dirty socks."

I grinned. No matter how often I did the washing, there were always dirty socks around the laundry basket. _Around_, not _in_ – Two-Bit would never have made a good basketball player. Balled up socks, too, which meant someone had to unroll them or they wouldn't get clean. That someone usually being me.

But compared to everything he'd done for me, and for Jay, dirty socks were a small price to pay.

Two-Bit was carrying Jay up the stairs. Jay would have taken forever on the steep climb. He was whining though and insisted on being put down once we reached the 'apartment'.

There were more rooms than I remembered. At the front there was a big room, currently full of boxes, but which would make a great bedroom, because there was a tiny but functional bathroom off of it. The tub was filthy and the toilet seat had disappeared, but the water was on.

At the back there were a couple of interconnecting rooms for living space. There was no obvious kitchen, but Two-Bit seemed to think he could fix something up. He tried to open the window which looked to be painted closed.

Jay beetled off into the next room and I followed him, on watch. But it wasn't Jay getting into trouble or breaking something that made me call Two-Bit to come see. Someone had been up here, recently. A space had been cleared to one side, some candles standing on a plate, on a upturned crate. There was a mattress on the floor – the wooden bed frame was stacked against the wall, in pieces. Next to the mattress were a few empty Pepsi bottles and a crumpled pack of Kools.

"Pony!" Jay declared, recognizing the labels as he jumped on the mattress. Two-Bit and I laughed. And then we stopped and frowned at each other.

"Anyone else got a key?" I asked casually. Two-Bit shook his head.

"Nah, Elle's got one to the store, but not up here. I got the only one. But that wouldn't stop anyone I know."

There was a sudden giggle from the stairs, followed by an urgent 'shh!'

"_Are you sure you locked it last time?_" came a whisper.

Two-Bit motioned me to stand behind him, as I scooped Jay into my arms. He reached into his back pocket, then as the door at the top of the stairs pushed open slowly, he relaxed and let go of his switch. I peered around him.

"Pony!" Jay let out a happy yell, proved completely right.

Ponyboy looked equal parts embarrassed and annoyed.

"Who is it?" asked a voice from behind him.

"Took the words outta my mouth," Two-Bit snapped, beckoning Pony forwards. He stepped into the room, closely followed by a girl in a rocking pair of pink hot pants. Her eyes went wide and she tucked behind Pony, chewing on a strand of her long hair.

Pony beamed a suspiciously familiar grin. "Hey, guys, how's it hanging?" Dear God, he looked like Soda when he tried that. Jay babbled at him.

"And this'll be the part where you snow me about your reasons for sneaking into my property?" Two-Bit was laying on the 'stern adult' real thick. I stayed quiet to see where he went with it.

"Ain't really yours..." Pony started to object, then backtracked quickly as Two-Bit's expression did not lighten: "Aw, Two-Bit, we was only..."

"Homework!" the chick blurted.

Two-Bit snorted at her in disbelief. "You in summer school, sweetheart? 'Cause last time I passed the high school it was kind of..._summer_..."

"Yup. Ponyboy's my tutor."

Pony winced at this.

"Is that so?" Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow. "How come you don't got books with you?"

"He don't need 'em, he's so smart, he just asks me questions." She looked quite pleased with herself for that answer, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"I'll just bet he does."

"What're y'all doin' here on a Sunday anyway?" Pony sighed. He slid his arm around the girl, giving up all pretense that they were there for anything other than what we assumed they were there for.

"I'm getting it ready to move into." Two-Bit smiled wickedly. "Real nice of you to volunteer to help me clear it out and clean it up." Pony opened his mouth to object but Two-Bit continued smoothly. "That_ is_ what I'll be telling Darry, when we discuss you being up here, right?"

Ponyboy Curtis rolled his eyes and muttered something to the effect of his being practically seventeen years old and not afraid of his big brother anymore. Two-Bit just chuckled.

"Well, alrighty then. 'Cause he's on his way to help me with these window frames..."

Pony shot an involuntary glance at the door, his expression making it perfectly clear that everything he'd just said about Darry was complete bull.

Two-Bit winked at me.

* * *

**A/N: Since I've always had Barratt in the background (at least in my head) I thought I'd post a little of his and Evie's back story. It's called 'Lonely, But No One Can Tell.' **


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: I am aware this chapter is **_**massive **_**compared to the average for this fic. ****But the more I juggled the word count, the more it seemed like it all belonged together. Hope you think so too. Because look at the date, it's finally...**

* * *

_**September 1968...**_

Just as well I'd been too keyed up to eat anything, because the nearer the time came, the more nauseous I felt.

"Stop looking at the clock, Tink. You ain't moving the hands by the power of your mind."

I poked my tongue out at Two-Bit. He grinned and threw Jay up in the air, making him squeal.

I warned him not to get the kid over excited. Again.

He smirked. "Not like you, then?"

I realized I was straightening my top again, unnecessarily. Before I could snap an answer back, I followed his gaze and saw the bus pulling in. _Finally_.

Jeez, people can walk slow; the first three people off the bus were practically crawling. I made my way forwards, resisting the urge to elbow some fat woman out of the way. Then I stopped still. My heart felt like it was going to burst.

He stepped down, loaded with two kit bags, dumping them on the ground and turning back to help as a second figure in khakis hopped down from the bus. The other guy, someone I'd never seen before, wrangled a crutch into place and Steve helped him loop his duffle over his free arm. I could tell from his body language that he was asking if the guy could manage. The guy shook Steve's hand and then a woman and two girls were swarming over him, leading him away.

Steve looked around, almost like he was lost.

I launched myself the rest of the way towards him, flinging my arms around his neck and finding myself in a hug that knocked the breath out of me. I alternated kissing him with trying to lean back to look at him.

"_Oh God, oh God, oh God, I can't believe you're here_." I was trying real hard not to cry.

"Me neither, babe." He picked me right up and buried his face in my neck. I wasn't real sure which of us was shaking harder.

A dramatic throat clearing let me know that Two-Bit was behind me now. Steve let me down, a whole mixture of emotions skating over his face. Because of course, it wasn't only Two-Bit. Jay was straining his arms towards me, twisting out of Two-Bit's grip. "Vevie," he demanded. I reached for him.

"Hey, JJ, you gonna say hello to your daddy?" I smiled. Jay took one look at Steve and hid his face against my neck. Steve looked stunned, but was gripped in a bear hug from Two-Bit before he could say anything.

"Man, it's good to have you back." Two-Bit's grin all but split his face in half.

"Good to be here." Steve slapped him on the back. He picked up his bag. "Let's get the fuck home."

"Steve!" Two-Bit and I exclaimed in unison, both indicating Jay.

Steve grimaced. "Oh. Sorry. Jeez, he grew, huh?"

"I sent you pictures." I laughed at how much he seemed shocked. Jay was peeping out at him now.

Steve nodded. "Yeah. But..._jeez_."

As Two-Bit opened the trunk of the Chevy and Steve threw his bag in, Jay's toddler curiosity was getting the better of his shyness.

"G. Joe!" he announced, looking to me for confirmation. Two-Bit burst into chuckles and I had to smile too.

"_Daddy_," I corrected. "This is your daddy."

Jay's little face set in a familiar scowl. "G. Joe."

"Yup, I think you got it, Jay-bird." Two-Bit laughed. "I think you got a real live G.I. Joe to play with now. You wanna drive, 'G. Joe'?" He threw the key to Steve. Steve shook his head and threw it back, climbing in the passenger seat.

"You drive. I wanna see how bad you treated her." He was talking about the Chevy. Obviously. Two-Bit ran his hands over the steering wheel suggestively.

"She's my baby now, Stevie, had my hands all over her."

Steve rolled his eyes and groaned. "That's what I was afraid of."

As we cruised through the neighborhood, I watched Steve's eyes drinking in all the familiar haunts.

"You wanna get a burger or something?" Two-Bit asked, noticing how Steve stared as we drove past the shell of The Dingo.

Steve shook his head. "Nah. I just wanna get out of this fuc... _uniform_ and into my own threads."

"Listen, we're expected at the ol' Curtis homestead for dinner, that okay by you?"

Steve was looking back over the seat at me and Jay, as Jay babbled about everything he could see out the window. He reacted a beat later to Two-Bit. "Sure. Of course. Is Soda workin' right now?"

Two-Bit smiled and swung a left, to take us down to the Brumly turn off. Once we got to the ranch, he pulled up in the yard and Steve leaped out practically before the car stopped.

Soda must have been listening for us, because he shot out from the stable, his limp pretty evident, as it was always was when he tried to hurry. Steve and he hugged each other, although it degenerated into a scuffle as they tried to mess up each other's hair. Soda had to hop to keep his balance and Steve was immediately concerned.

"Man, you okay?"

Soda grinned. "S'nothin'. Forget it." He turned to the car, because Jay was banging on the window and yelling, "Sodahhh!" He opened the door and leaned in.

"Hey, little buddy!"

"See hosses, Unca Soda." Jay nodded his head furiously, believing that if he said something firmly it became a done deal. Soda took him out of his car seat, swinging him up in his arms.

"Sure thing, honey. You can come see the horses. Two-Bit," Soda suggested, "you wanna hang here? I'm all but finished up. I'll drive you home, let these two catch up?"

Two-Bit and I climbed out. I was going to move around to the passenger seat in front, when Steve said, "You drive, babe." I think we all looked a bit surprised. He quirked his mouth in a half smile. "I ain't forgotten the way, I just wanna look at everything. Don't seem real yet, that I'm back."

"Vevie. See hosses," Jay commanded, pointing at the stable.

I shook my head. "You be good, JJ, stay with Uncle Two-Bit, huh? I'mma head home with Daddy. I'll see you at Soda's house." He pouted, but Soda distracted him with whinny noises and Steve and I got back in the Chevy. Steve asked me why I called Jay 'JJ' sometimes. I explained it was just a fun reflection of the fact that he said my name as two 'V' sounds. He frowned a little, then, as we drove, he trailed his arm along the back of the seat, stroking my neck.

"I thought you wanted to look at everything," I teased, because he never took his eyes off me.

"I am," he said lazily. "You don't know how good it is to be back."

I pretended to be shocked. "Can we at least get to the house?"

"Drive quicker," was all he said, sliding nearer to me.

xxXxx

The second we shut the front door, Steve had his arms around me, pressing me against the wall, kissing me hard.

For a while I thought he wasn't going to stop, which would have been fine by me. I was beyond happy to have him home, safe, in one piece. Eventually though, even he ran out of air and he groaned, still pressed up against me.

"Christ Almighty, I missed you, Evie."

"C'mon then." I took his hand and led him towards the bedrooms. I laughed out loud when he headed left.

"Nah. Unless you particularly wanna do it in Two-Bit's bed? We sleep here now, remember?" I opened the door to the big bedroom. He blinked slightly.

"Oh, yeah, I knew that." He stopped and looked around the room. "Shit. You made it look...nice." As I undid his shirt buttons, he pulled back. "I should take a shower. I was on that goddamn bus for six friggin' hours."

"If you like," I teased, pulling my top over my head. He growled low in his throat and the next thing I knew, we were on the bed and the shower was forgotten.

xxXxx

"Are you bawlin'?" he asked, incredulously, as we lay tangled together afterwards.

"Cut me some slack, I just got you back from a freaking war zone!" I punched him in the gut. Didn't even make him flinch. He smoothed my hair and ran his other hand up my back.

"Back safe, babe. Never any doubt."

I made a noise of disbelief that he could say that so casually.

Steve blinked. "Were you scared?" I must have done a hell of a job of convincing him I was okay all that time, because he actually sounded surprised.

"All day. Every day."

"Aw, Evie. Didn't I tell ya there's nothin' in this world woulda stopped me coming back to you?"

We hugged for another while, then he looked around at the night stand.

"You got any smokes?"

"In the kitchen. Not in here. We, uh, smoke outside now. Darry read this stuff that says it's real bad for kids' lungs."

"No shit?" Steve said sarcastically. "Ain't they been tryin' to say that for years? I was a kid when I started, an' I'm okay."

"I don't think you were as little as Jay," I objected.

"Are you seriously tellin' me I gotta go outside? He ain't even here." Steve got out of bed. I watched him stretch. He was way more muscled than he had been, something I'd noticed when I had my hands on him. He was real tan too, apart from where his shorts must have been. Although even the tan didn't stop the new tattoos from standing out.

Steve dragged on his army pants and padded out the door. I found my robe and followed him. I showed him where I kept my cigarettes and matches and he lit one up and opened the back door. He swore at the air temperature – although it wasn't near cold – but he still stood on the porch and smoked it right down to the butt, moving his bare feet on the wood.

"Do you want a drink?" I asked. It seemed to make him jump – he'd been staring at the back yard. Coming back inside, he rubbed his arms to warm up as I made coffee and he watched me going about the kitchen. He only drank half a cup before he was up again.

I guess seeing the kitchen had made him notice that things had changed, because he looked into the front room too.

"Kid's got a load of toys," he commented, gesturing at the box of Jay's stuff. "I was gonna bring him something, but I didn't know what to get." He paused, chewing his lip. "He don't seem like the same kid even."

"They grow." I shrugged. "But you'll get to know him again now. He was just shy at the bus station."

Steve nodded thoughtfully.

"You want to see his room?" I showed him the small room, now transformed into a little boy's den. "Cool, huh?" I pointed to the painted horses and cars on the walls. "Pony's real clever at all that. This," I pointed out the little bed, "came from your mom. She gives him loads of the twins' old stuff, still. I swear he has more clothes than me." I realized he was looking at the photo frame with two photos of himself, one taken before he left and one of him in uniform, on the night stand. "See. He knows who you are."

Back in our bedroom, he looked around. "Where's my stuff?" He had been home, to this room, for that forty eight hour pass, but that was over a year ago, of course. I showed him where to find his clothes and everything.

"Okay. I'mma hit the shower." He disappeared into the bathroom. A moment later I heard his voice again, muffled.

"What?" I yelled.

"I said, I never knew they made this many different fucking shampoos. Is this you or Two-Bit?"

I laughed.

When he came back, a towel wrapped around his waist, he pulled me to sit on his lap on the bed. I ran my hand over his hair. It wasn't exactly a regulation buzz cut any more, but still...

"You gonna grow it out again now?"

Steve shrugged. "Maybe. Seems like a lot of bother to go back to the old way. I like yours like this." He tugged the end of my hair, longer these days. I smiled and kissed him. He deepened the kiss, pushing my robe aside.

"We're supposed to be goin' out, remember," I said without much conviction, letting his hands roam inside the robe.

"Yeah, yeah. We'll get there."

xxXxx

I started laughing when I came back from a quick shower to find Steve trying on his old gear. "Looks like you'll have to go clothes shopping," I teased.

Steve pulled a face. "Great." He pulled a different t shirt over his head. That one was also tight on him and he yanked it off with a mutter.

"This is real nice." I followed the new ink pattern around his left arm, an intricate design that circled the top of his bicep. The old eagle on the other arm had more detailed feathers too, I noticed.

He grunted, "Had to find something to do on R 'n R." But I could tell he was pleased that I liked it. I put my hand on the smaller tattoo inked over his heart. At first glance it looked like an abstract swirl, but it was actually two letters entwined: E and J.

I got dressed quickly and then I grabbed a few of Jay's things, in case they were running short at the Curtis house. And Wrench, or I'd never hear the end of it.

Steve was standing in the doorway to his old room, taking in Two-Bit's decorative touches. He looked at me with a puzzled expression, indicating the shelf that ran around two walls near the ceiling. Smiling, I told him about Jay getting into everything now. "Two-Bit figured that was the easiest way to keep stuff outta his reach." I paused. "Is it weird for you? Him sleepin' in your old room?"

"Nah." But there was an appreciable delay before he answered. I started to tell him about Two-Bit moving into the apartment now and Steve sort of shook himself, as if he was forcing himself to concentrate on me. "I'm starving. We gonna eat?"

He asked me to drive again, although this time he was looking out the window for real.

"Listen, is Soda...? About Soda...His leg..."

I interpreted his half sentences as concern. I'd missed his inability to express anything he was upset about, like I'd missed everything else about him. I knew he'd been genuinely shocked when Soda was unsteady at the ranch.

"He's okay, honest. You get used to it. Sometimes he hardly limps at all. Ask him about it, he'll tell you. It was a blessing it happened in Basic, got him sent home."

"And the horse thing. He's happy working there?"

I told him yes. Happier than I'd ever seen him. Steve nodded slowly.

He twisted towards me as we turned onto the block and we passed the empty lot, and when we reached the Curtis house, there was a definite hesitation before Steve got out. I was starting to think that being home was hitting him harder than he was letting on. But we were there now, everyone expecting him, so I couldn't offer to turn around and take him back to our house. And, in fact, he leaped the last couple of porch steps, like always, and walked right in like he'd done it yesterday, not over eighteen months ago. Maybe I was looking for trouble that didn't exist.

"Finally! I was about to start chewin' my own arm off," Two-Bit complained.

"Quit whining, it's only just ready," Darry told him as he came over to grip Steve's arm in a handshake. "It's good to see you, man."

Steve said the same back.

Soda stuck his head out the kitchen door. "Someone grab the plates, huh?"

As I started towards the kitchen, Jay appeared at top speed, yelling my name and waving a piece of paper.

"Draw'd with Pony. Lookit, Vevie, lookit."

I squatted to see what it was that he'd been 'drawing'. "Wow!" I said appreciatively. "That's real good, honey."

Ponyboy came out into the main room. "It's a car. _Surprise surprise_," he explained. Most of Jay's drawings were supposedly cars. "Hey, Steve."

I watched as Steve took in the fact that he had to raise his eyes a little. "Hey, kid. You got tall."

Pony grinned. "Or maybe you shrank?"

They eyed each other, but Pony never lost his grin. I wondered when Steve would notice the shyness grew out of him as the height grew in.

"Story now, Unca Pony, _story now_." Jay was yanking on Pony's jeans leg.

"Nope. I said _after_ dinner. If you're good and eat your vegetables." Pony picked Jay up and swung him towards the table, where Soda had given up on anyone helping and plonked the plates down himself.

Two-Bit launched himself at the table and for a second Steve looked a little lost. He trailed over as everyone grabbed a seat.

"You're in the splash zone," Soda warned him as Steve sat next to Jay's highchair.

"Huh?"

"You'll see." Soda wickedly declined to offer any details. I sat on the other side of Steve.

"Poneee..." Jay roared, having squinted suspiciously at Steve.

"Yes. I'm here." Pony brought through a plate of bread rolls and sat by Jay, breaking one into smaller pieces for him. I saw Steve's eyes on this as he reached for a roll.

"Story?" Jay wheedled.

"Veggies?" Pony shot back in the same tone. He handed Jay a couple of carrot sticks.

Darry was doling out the spaghetti and Steve couldn't keep quiet as Jay's little bowl was set in front of him, the noodles already chopped up.

"He eats spaghetti?"

"'Eats'...'decorates with'...it's a flexible thing," Two-Bit wisecracked.

Steve ate fast. He'd always had an appetite, but he inhaled the food in front of him at such a rate of knots that eventually we were all watching. He became aware of us and looked up.

"Uh, sorry. Kind of a habit." He put his fork down deliberately and took a swig of the beer Darry had poured for him. As he was putting the glass down, a strand of spaghetti hit him on the cheek. Wiping it off, he turned to look at Jay, who beamed angelically from a mask of spaghetti sauce, raising his little fist again.

"_Jay_." Darry's voice wasn't too stern, but neither could the tone be described as cheerful.

Jay froze and looked at Darry.

"Do we throw food?"

Jay pouted, and looked reluctant to drop the piece of noodle in his hand.

"Pick up your spoon and eat nice." Darry warned.

Jay slurped the pasta on his hand, chasing it around his wrist, then picked up his spoon and attacked the bowl.

"Like father, like son," Soda commented airily.

Steve made to pick up a piece of spaghetti, his eyes warning Soda what would happen.

"Don't you dare!" I said, nudging him. "You'll undo all Darry's hard work."

"You'll keep," Steve said to Soda.

"Yeah, yeah. You keep tellin' yourself that, Randle. You ain't got the jump on me yet..."

"What?" Steve began to regale Soda with every time he'd ever beaten him at anything.

I had to take a deep breath and a sip of my drink. There were times when I never thought we'd all be together like this again.

When we finished eating, Pony and Soda began clearing the table. I nudged Steve.

"You can let Jay out, before he climbs out. Wipe his mouth first or he'll get it all over you." Jay was struggling to get his legs out, but he would eventually manage it. Steve stood up and reached for him, but Jay shouted 'No', making Steve pull back.

"Ignore it, he's just making a fuss because he hates getting cleaned up," I reassured. But Steve backed up.

"'S'okay. He ain't used to me yet." He grabbed a couple of empty glasses and went into the kitchen. I heard him speaking to Soda as I dealt with Jay.

"Don't tell me I gotta go outside here 'n all?"

"You were _always_ supposed to smoke outside at this house, Randle," Darry called. Steve ignored that and asked Pony if he wanted a cigarette too.

"Nah. I quit. Track coach at Northeastern, he's kinda into healthy livin'. Besides, smoking stunts your growth. _Obviously_." They started a goodnatured argument about who was taller now, the voices getting quieter as Steve went out the back door.

I made for the couch. There wasn't enough room in the kitchen for all of us, and besides, I was happy to get out of cleaning up when I could. Two-Bit nudged me with his elbow.

"I wasn't sure you guys would make it back here. Nice reunion?"

"Yes, thanks, don't expect any sleazy details outta me." I elbowed him back. Then I blurted quietly, "He's kind of on edge, don't ya think?"

"Hey," Darry looked up from where he was helping Jay build a wall of bricks. "He's gonna take a little time to settle in. The important thing is, he's back."

I nodded. "I know."

Steve's voice came back, as Soda clashed the dishes around in the sink. He must have smoked that weed in record time. They walked into the front room – Ponyboy had the short straw and was drying.

Steve sat next to me, although he almost got up again as he noticed Soda had to keep his leg straight in order to drop to the floor. It wasn't an issue, the chairs were free - he was choosing the floor so he could play with Jay.

Digging in his toy box for more bricks, Jay came up with his G.I. Joe in his hand. His little face was a picture as he glanced from the doll to Steve, who was no longer in uniform, of course. Two-Bit, ever quick to spot an opportunity, started telling Darry and Soda about Steve being the living embodiment of G.I. Joe. They were laughing, but I felt Steve tense up a little. He put his arm around me and I leaned into him.

Jay marched over and launched himself at my lap, trying to push Steve's arm away. "_My _Vevie," he scowled, making the guys laugh.

"He really looks like you when he makes that face," Soda said to Steve.

I was talking quietly to Jay, trying to tell him that he and Steve were _both_ my guys and he was jabbering back at me when Steve stood up abruptly.

"I'mma get a smoke." He made for the front door.

"You just had one!" My objection was for nothing because he disappeared onto the front porch anyway. Jay beamed in triumph and my heart sank a little. I looked pointedly at Soda, silently asking him to go after Steve. He levered himself up and went outside.

Jay abandoned me to demand his story when Ponyboy came in and they settled into the armchair and Pony started reading from the storybook Jay picked.

Soda came back in and dropped onto the couch. "You go talk to him. I think maybe he wants to go home." The 'maybe' worried me. Like 'maybe' Soda couldn't read Steve's emotions anymore? Or 'maybe' Steve wasn't sure himself?

He was sitting on the top step, half a weed burning down in his fingers as he stared at the street. I eased down next to him. "You had enough, baby? You wanna go home?"

He chewed his lip. "Yeah. I'm kinda beat."

"Okay. Let's just say goodbye." I knew he wasn't telling the truth, but I just wanted him to feel comfortable. I stood up and held out my hand.

Soda looked up as we went back inside. "If you guys wanna split, Two-Bit and Jay are gonna crash here."

"Yeah." Two-Bit winked. "Be like a honeymoon for you."

"Great. I brought clean jammies, if you need 'em," I told Soda. "They're in the car." Soda ducked out to the Chevy. "Don't forget the monkey," I called after him.

"Thanks, Mom," Two-Bit quipped.

I pulled a face at him. "You ever decide to sleep in jammies, I'll bring yours over too, huh?" He laughed. I reached for Jay, lifting him off Pony's lap. "Sweetie, you're gonna sleep over, okay? I'll see you in the morning." I gave him a hug and he squeezed around my neck. "You gonna say goodnight to Daddy?" I prompted, indicating Steve. Jay looked at Steve. Then he shook his head, saying something at breakneck speed that contained the word 'Daddy' and the word 'picture'. A light bulb went off in my head at the same time it did in Two-Bit's because he said 'Ohhh', like me.

Two-Bit asked Pony to fetch Jay's photo frame from his bedroom. I could see Steve was confused.

"We got the picture copied, for when he sleeps here. Same deal at bedtime, y'know?" I explained. He looked none the wiser.

Pony came back and handed Jay the picture frame.

"Daddy," Jay said confidently. "Say 'night, Daddy'." He kissed the photo.

"Yeah, but sweetie, look." I took the picture from him and held it up next to Steve's face. "This really is Daddy. He's here now. You don't gotta say 'night' to the picture now."

It was almost like we were all holding our breath, waiting for Jay to make the connection. He looked at the picture, then at Steve. Then he turned his eyes to me.

"Daddy?" he said hesitantly. I nodded. Just as Steve started to smile at him, Jay did the equivalent of a two-year old's shrug. "Okay. Daddy here now." He wriggled down to the floor. "Sleep Pony's room." He hared off towards the bedrooms.

"Oh, man. I could sleep in tomorrow, for once. Can't you sleep in Soda's room?" Pony complained, following him, trying to bribe him. "Soda'll play cars if you sleep in there..."

"I got work in the morning," Soda called after him.

"Exactly! You gotta get up anyway!" Pony yelled back.

"I'll drop him off in the morning," Soda said to me. He slapped Steve lightly on the back. "See you then, man."

Steve nodded absentmindedly and let me lead him down to the street before he muttered, "He don't seem bothered."

"Jay? He loves sleeping over there. They just move this little camp bed around the rooms. He wants another story, that's why he's all over Pony tonight."

"Nah. I mean about me."

Oh. I stopped, surprised at his flat tone, wondering if he was okay. "He's real little. He don't get why it's important that you're home."

"He forgot me."

"Oh, Steve, baby." I stepped up close, touched his cheek. "You were gone a long time. Like more than half his life. He'll get to know you again."

Steve bit his lip. "Yeah. I guess." He kissed me lightly. "Can you drive us? I'm tired."

We went home and went to bed and he showed himself to be a liar by not being tired at all.

* * *

**Talk to me, people!, let me know what you're thinking. Please. :) **


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Those of you who have been in contact with me before will know that I love to reply personally to reviews and messages. This has been a bad week in my personal life and I haven't been able to do that. And it was such a well reviewed chapter too! Please know that in difficult circumstances, reading the reviews as they came in was a welcome distraction and comfort. Thank you everyone. (I already had this chapter uploaded and edited, so I just needed to find the time to type this message today.) **

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When I woke up, the other side of the bed was empty. Just for a second, my heart stopped, in case I'd dreamed Steve coming home. I checked the clock. It was only about midnight, because it hadn't been that late at all when we got back.

I found him in the kitchen, sitting on the floor across the open doorway, his back to the frame as he blew a stream of smoke towards the porch.

"This counts as outside, right?" he said with a smile. I pulled up short. It wasn't a cigarette in the ashtray beside him. He followed my gaze and picked up the reefer. "You want?"

I shook my head. "Come back to bed."

Steve nodded, but didn't move. "In a minute." He took a long drag.

Strange as it seemed, I'd never seen him smoke a whole joint. He didn't always turn a puff down, when one was going around at parties, but he'd told me more than once that getting wasted on booze suited him better. Being mellow was the wrong sort of 'out of control'. And looking at his personality, I could understand it. When he drank, he could still fight, for instance.

I was slightly disoriented from having slept for just an hour or so. My immediate reaction was to worry about having the grass in the house in the first place.

"You ain't gonna smoke that around Jay, are you?" I blurted.

"Jesus Christ," Steve reacted lazily, closed his eyes for a second. "I get it, okay. Everything revolves around the kid. But not tonight. He ain't even here. I'm just chillin'. You could do with some yourself, babe."

I bit back my instinctive retort. I was not going to fight with him on his first night back.

Back in the bedroom I eyed his kit bag. He'd dragged a few things out and they spilled on the floor. Who knew he'd brought the makings of a joint back as a souvenir?

By the time he came back, I was in bed. He threw himself down, flat on his back.

"'S'weird, huh? Freaky, to be home again. This ain't even my ceiling. This is my old man's ceiling. Freaky." He shook his head.

"It's our ceiling now," I said gently, well aware he was just babbling.

"I know that. Everything's ours now. Yours. An' mine. That's freakin' freaky too." He pushed up on his elbow suddenly, leaning into me, talking in a rush of words. "Not you an' me, Evie, darlin'. We ain't freaky, we're _right_, you dig? We're so right...You wanna get married proper this time? 'Cause I was thinking about it, over there, y'know. I was thinking, you an' me, we oughta do it proper, have an party 'n all, tell the whole world that We. Are. Married..."

I shut him up with a hand on his lips. "Tell you what, Steve, ask me again tomorrow, huh? When it's not the grass talking."

He fell back onto his pillow."Babe. Evie. I love you so much. You don't know how much I love you. I really, really...like more even than the stars there are. There are _so many_ stars. Over there, you can see so many stars, it's like, beyond anything, you can't even count 'em. I tried one time. I could do that, like for a job, that would be cool, counting stars. Is that someone's job, d'ya think? Is someone in charge of checking out all them stars..?"

I fell asleep to the sound of his voice.

xxXxx

Steve was sleeping like a dead man when I got up, sprawled on his front, diagonally across the bed. I hit the shower and got dressed and he still lay there. I heard the car doors outside and met Soda in the entryway.

"Package for Randle?" he teased, like he always did when he brought Jay home. Jay was tiptoeing along a crack in the wood of the porch, following a beetle.

"Was he good?" I checked.

Soda made a so-so gesture. "He wasn't real interested in brushing his teeth last night."

"Again?" This was becoming a regular battle.

"An' he threw a fit about Two-Bit going to work."

I frowned. It was starting to bother Jay more these days when Two-Bit left him.

"But other than that, he was good." Soda beamed and caught Jay up in a hug, tipping him upside down and making him shriek with laughter, before he turned him right way up and set him down. "Bye, little buddy. See ya later..."

"Aggilater!" Jay waved furiously and then ran inside.

"Jay!" I whisper/called. "Jay, keep it down, Daddy's sleeping."

"Nah, I'm up." Steve appeared, yawning and rubbing his face. He was wearing only his undershorts. "Was that Soda?"

"Yeah. You missed him. He went to work."

Steve looked disappointed.

Jay was noisily ferreting about in his toy box in the front room. I nodded in his direction. "Go get acquainted, I'll bring you some coffee, yeah?"

I could hear Jay chattering as I was in the kitchen, but I didn't hear Steve talk back. When I carried his cup in, he was sprawled on the couch, looking bemused as Jay covered the carpet in little cars and plastic horses.

"Here. Don't put it down near him, okay." I pointed to the side table on the other side of the couch as a suggestion.

Steve took the coffee gratefully. "He makes some noise, huh?"

I nodded. "Yup. He's got a lot of energy. Reminds me of someone..."

Steve gave a half smile.

I asked Jay if he'd eaten breakfast or if he wanted something.

"Darry's pancakes. Mmmm." He rubbed his belly theatrically, making me smile until I saw Steve's face.

"_Darry_, he's saying _Darry_." I murmured, realizing that he heard Jay's mispronunciation of Darry as 'Dally'. We were all used to it, of course. "You suckered Darry into making pancakes for you?" I ruffled Jay's hair. "Okay. You won't want much lunch then."

"Two-Bit some lunch and me?" he asked hopefully.

"Not today. He'll be back for dinner though."

"How the hell d'ya know what he's talking about?"

I felt sorry for Steve then. He seemed almost lost when faced with the little boy he had fought so hard to keep.

"You'll pick it up." I kissed him on the head. He put his hand up to my face to kiss me properly. Jay picked that moment to pinch his finger in one of the cars, something that necessitated a shriek and my attention to kiss it better. When I looked up again, Steve had left the room. I heard the back door open and guessed he'd gone for a cigarette.

I was playing on the floor with Jay when Steve came back, dressed. I asked if he wanted breakfast but he shook his head. I beckoned him to come sit with us.

"This a fast one, JJ?" I asked, holding up one of the little cars.

"Naw. Truck don't go fast. Silly Vevie." He grabbed a red one, making vrooming noises. "Bird goes fast."

"What'd ya think, Daddy? Is he right? T-birds go faster than trucks?"

"Sure they do," Steve chipped in. "But a Camaro'll go faster. You got a Camaro, little buddy?"

"No." Jay pouted.

"No? Maybe we'll see what we can do about that." Steve looked at me. I realized he was checking if it was okay to say that, to promise that. I smiled. He picked up one of the cars and spoke to Jay, "This looks like a Chevy, little bud. How's that run?"

"HeapajunkChevy only good f'scrap," Jay announced in a pretty good imitation of Two-Bit on a bad day.

Steve goggled. "Say what?"

Jay crashed two cars together, with sound effects. He scrambled after the one that had shot under the coffee table, chortling with laughter.

"'_Heap of junk Chevy'_?" Steve queried, his eyebrows raised.

"The fan belt, last month." I explained. "Good job Two-Bit only said 'junk', huh?" I stood up. "You all unpacked? Got anything to go in the washer?"

"Holy- " Steve caught himself before he cussed, looked at Jay who was piling the cars on top of one another in a recreation of some horrible accident that was probably just a tower in his mind. "_Jeez_. You sound like June Cleaver."

"Thank you." I stuck my tongue out at him. "You can do your own stinkin' washing."

He followed me out to the bedrooms as I grabbed a few things of Jay's. The basket in the bathroom was full of Two-Bit's stuff. How, I had no clue. I thought we'd spent the last few days clearing up, ready for Steve's return.

As I dumped Two-Bit's shirts in the washer, Steve came in with some t-shirts and underwear in his hand.

"Perfect timing," I grinned. "Assuming you don't object to your shorts getting up close and personal with Two-Bit's?"

"So, you do his washing?" Steve asked slowly.

"Duh. Not unheard of for him to do mine, too. We been livin' together, remember?" I teased.

"Yeah, but -" I never got to hear what he was going to say because Jay yelled for me.

Steve hovered in the bathroom door as I pulled up Jay's pants and washed his hands and mine. I knelt down and gave him a hug.

"You are such a clever boy!" I praised him. "Did you know you had such a clever boy, Daddy?"

Steve stared blankly at me. I made a face, urging him to say something, but Jay beetled off to his bedroom anyway.

"The kid peed. What's the big deal?"

"Oh my God. Are you kidding me?" I moved the upturned crate we used as a step for Jay to be able to reach the toilet and the basin. "Obvious you haven't changed a diaper lately. It _is_ a big deal..."

"_Hey_. I changed plenty! Ain't my fuckin' fault I wasn't here." He stormed off.

And of course, it wasn't his fault. But I hadn't meant it like that. I'd only been razzing him. Trying to let him see that it was a big stage in Jay's life, it was important. I could have kicked myself.

"_What the hell?"_ Steve suddenly roared. I raced to the bedroom, to find him standing over Jay, who was in the middle of the pile of stuff spilling from Steve's duffle. All his stuff.

"Vevie...Picture Vevie." Jay whimpered, running to me, his lip wobbling because Steve had shouted at him. He was holding out a photo, which was a bit crumpled, in his little hand. I took it from him. It was a photo of me. He was right.

I slapped the photo in Steve's hand, then I bent down and picked up the baggie sitting on top of the duffle and slapped that in his hand too. I shot him an evil look, swung Jay up into my arms and walked out the room.

I found a handful of raisins for Jay and put them in a little bowl, sitting him on the couch, before I was calm enough to deal with Steve. He was scooping up all the clothes and whatever else, shoving it in drawers, or back in the bag.

"_Now_ you're picking up your crap?" I hissed angrily. "Any other pharmaceuticals I oughta stop your son gettin' hold of?"

"Grass ain't pharmaceutical," he sniped.

I pushed the bedroom door shut gently, trying to keep my voice low. "Seriously? That's your argument? It ain't chemical so it don't matter if a two year old gets his hands on it?"

"Lighten up. He didn't get his hands on it. He was too interested in chewing a photo I kept safe in the fuckin' jungle for more'n a year." Steve didn't modulate his tone.

"He didn't chew it! And you shouldn't have left it lying around if it was so important."

"It was only lying around because I was sorting my washing, _as instructed_." His sarcasm was white hot.

I stared at him, so livid I could hardly form words in my mind, never mind speak to him. He was turning this back on me? I'd nagged him about his washing, so he'd had no choice but to spread his crap - _his drugs_ - all over the bedroom carpet?

I left the bedroom.

Shortly afterwards I heard the front door slam.

"Two-Bit home!" Jay jumped up. I pulled him back.

"No, sweetie. Daddy went out."

xxXxx

"Ooh. Cops, cops, cops."

For a second I wondered if Jay had managed to turn on the TV, when he used Two-Bit's complaint about all the cop shows on. But then he called again.

"Come see, Vevie, see p'lice car." And of course he was right, there _was_ a cop car parked in the street outside the house.

"Ooh!" Jay hopped down from the window and began racing the length of the room, making siren noises. He veered out into the entryway and I was close behind. Through the screen door I saw Steve getting out of the cruiser. My heart sank. Then I got to thinking, if he was in trouble, why were they bringing him home?

Steve leaned down to shake the driver's hand, then sauntered cheerfully up towards the house. The cruiser drove off.

Jay was jumping up and down with excitement, jabbering away about Daddy in the police car. Steve squatted down to his level.

"Hey, little man, did you see that cop car? And Daddy didn't even get arrested. Cool, huh?" He looked up at me, mouthed the words 'I'm sorry' over Jay's head, then he was fishing in his jacket pocket. He produced a little box that had a logo very familiar to Jay, who whooped in delight. "Couldn't find a Camaro. Hope you don't got this one either..."

"Batman! BatmanBatmanBatman!" Jay clutched the box to his chest, like it was his heart's desire come true. He used all of two seconds to try and prise the box open before thrusting it back at Steve. "Open it, Daddy!" Steve tipped out the little Batmobile and Jay grabbed it, flying it through the air as he ran back into the front room, presumably to introduce it to his other cars. Steve stood up.

He looked at me sheepishly. "I am. Sorry. I ain't good at being told what to do." He held his arms out.

"Didn't you just spend time in the Army? Ain't it all about tellin' you what to do?" I griped as I let him hug me.

"What the hell makes you think I was any good at it there?"

I had to laugh at that. Steve smiled and kissed me. He tasted of beer. Jay ran smack into our legs.

"Hey. Did you say thank you for your cool new Batmobile?" I prompted him.

Jay kissed the Batmobile with a lipsmacking noise. "Thank you!" he said fervently, although it was unclear if he was talking to Steve or the car. Then he grabbed a fistful of Steve's jeans. "Cars now, Daddy."

I stepped back and waved them into the front room but Steve grimaced.

"Can I take a leak first?"

And so he was treated to his first trip to the bathroom with Jay stationed right outside, tapping on the door and yakking away at him. Steve had rather a stunned expression as he came out and Jay dragged him to play.

"That's...interesting." Steve commented. I nodded, trying to keep a straight face.

"You don't really get 'alone time' with this one." Then I remembered his unusual taxi. "What was the cruiser all about?"

Steve shrugged, looking up at me from where he was in among the toys. "I got stopped coming outta this bar – I wasn't even drunk, I only had one beer - "

"Some beer and Unca Two-Bit if I am big," Jay interrupted.

"Two-Bit promised him a beer when he's big enough," I explained.

"Yeah, I got it. But we'll see about that." Steve frowned. "Anyways, I said I was celebrating coming home an' turns out the cop has a brother over in 'Nam, so he got to talking and next thing I know, he's giving me a ride home."

"You know his brother, then?"

"Nah. Never met the guy."

I watched the two of them set up a race track with blocks, to see if the Batmobile could beat a T-bird. Then I went back to the kitchen.

xxXxx

For once the cooking was going well. The front door banged open and a split second later I heard Jay yelling Two-Bit's name as he ran to him, like always.

Two-Bit whooped and scooped Jay up, also like always, blowing raspberries on his stomach and making him laugh uproariously.

"Hi, honey, I'm home."

I arrived in time to see Two-Bit blow a kiss in Steve's direction, which Steve responded to with an affectionate middle finger. Luckily, Jay was being dangled upside down over Two-Bit's shoulder and didn't see the gesture.

"Something smells...unburnt." Two-Bit goggled at me. "What are we being treated to?"

"You ain't getting anything, if you don't put him down before he chucks." I wagged my finger at him. He grinned and deposited Jay on the couch, pretending he was going to sit on him. Jay chortled away, climbing up Two-Bit's back again, this time the right way up.

I noticed Steve was watching them. He picked up the Batmobile and tossed it towards the toy box.

xxXxx

Over dinner, Two-Bit asked Steve to help him shift his stuff to the apartment.

"Chrissake, how much you got?" Steve protested, when Two-Bit suggested they take both cars. "If it don't fit in the Plymouth, get Soda to bring the pick up."

Two-Bit opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked about as confused as I felt. He went to box up his stuff. Jay followed him, climbing onto Two-Bit's bed and chattering away to him as he gathered up all his crap. I could hear them laughing while I tackled the dishes.

How come there always seems to be one thing left over? Even if you get all the plates done, there's always a spoon left, when you let the dirty water out. This time, I turned around, thinking I was done and realized I'd left a skillet on the stove top. Sighing, I reached back to run some fresh water.

The water fountained up, soaking me. I shrieked and yelled, "Two-Bit! The faucet's doin' it again!"

He came in at a run and pounced on the faucet, twisting it around, getting soaked himself in the process, but forcing it back around until the water stopped. He grinned at me, dripping. I threw the dishtowel at him, having mopped myself down some.

I realized Steve was in the kitchen doorway.

"I was only in the other room," he said, flatly.

"Sorry." I smiled. "Force of habit. 'Sides, he's been promising to fix it, he oughta be the one getting wet."

Two-Bit flicked water at me, but I lost my smile as I saw Steve scowl and turn away.

I followed him through to the front room and sat on the arm of the couch next to him. He stared at the TV screen.

"Steve?"

He ignored me.

"Steve? Seriously, you're pissed because I didn't ask you to turn off the water?"

"No. I'm pissed because you asked him to do it."

_That was the same thing wasn't it?_

I decided to tease him out of his mood. I slid my hand around his neck, bending close to his ear. "Steve...baby, please can you fix the faucet for me?" I whispered sexily.

"Fuck off."

I jumped back at the vicious response. He didn't even look around.

Biting back a reply, I went back into the kitchen. Two-Bit met my eyes, his face real serious for the second or two that it took him to summon up an encouraging smile.

"He needs to settle in. It ain't been but a day."

I chewed my lip. I hoped he was right.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Thanks, everyone. I still feel guilty I maybe didn't reply to every review. They are all appreciated. Btw, in case anyone is comparing with the previous stories...this one is going to run to a few more chapters than those, because I didn't make myself stick to the same size 'season'. **

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I knew I wasn't dreaming this time, as I felt Steve's arm snake around me. It was still real early but there was no way I was going to complain about being woken up like this. My heart was fit to burst with the happiness of having him home after waiting so long.

He'd shaken himself out of his mood last night. Helped Two-Bit load up the Plymouth with boxes and bags. Right before they were finished, Soda dropped by in his own car anyway, so Steve rode with him to see the apartment and they all carried Two-Bit's stuff up those steep stairs and christened the place with a beer.

Steve was too late back to put Jay to bed, but I wasn't even sad about that. We had all the days we wanted now, for him to do bath time and stories and everything. He was home. _Home._

I smiled, my eyes still closed as he slid close behind me, kissing my shoulder and working his way up the side of my neck.

"Vevie! No Two-Bit. Some breakfast now and no Two-Bit." Jay's voice, right by the bed, made both Steve and me jump and he rolled away from me with a groan.

"You gotta be kidding," he muttered, as Jay climbed onto the bed next to me, still jabbering about the fact that Two-Bit wasn't in his room. He clocked me accidentally with Wrench as he bounced.

"Honey, we talked about this. Uncle Two-Bit went to sleep in his new house, remember?" I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.

"Two-Bit make breakfast." Jay was having a hard time processing the idea of Two-Bit moving out. He bounced on my lap, then poked Steve – who had closed his eyes again - on the arm. "Daddy! Wake up Daddy. Not sleep in my Vevie's bed."

Steve's eyes snapped open and for a second, his expression was dark enough to make me pause. Then he made a visible effort to smile. "Hate to tell ya, little man. I was here first," he said, sitting up.

I leaned across to kiss him. "I'll get his breakfast. You want something?"

"Just coffee."

Steve was yawning as he made his way out onto the back porch, dressed only in half buttoned jeans. I set up Jay with some toast, making sure to put the jelly on before the peanut butter, like Two-Bit did, or there was a fair chance that Jay wouldn't touch it. Then I took Steve his coffee. I had to leave the mug on the porch rail, because he was already lighting a second weed from the last spark of his first one. His eyes roamed the back yard, even flicking up to the sky.

"So fuckin' quiet," he murmured. I wasn't sure if he was talking to me.

He came back inside and sat at the kitchen table. Jay was swinging his legs as he munched his toast. He studied Steve with huge round eyes. Steve watched him right back, unblinking.

"I am see Meemaw," Jay announced. He meant Ma – he'd adopted the same name for her that Sarah made Toni use. Ma didn't mind, in fact she liked it. "Play Toni today," Jay added. I wasn't certain that he kept track of the days for real, being so tiny, but he was usually right about where he was going to be when I was working. And he hadn't been to Ma's for a few days now, so he must have figured it was time to go again. I smiled as I shook my head.

"Not today, JJ. Today we're having a vacation day at home with Daddy."

Jay's face clouded over. "I am see Meemaw!"

"Maybe we'll see Gamma instead." I wanted to head off a tantrum. I looked to Steve. "Your mom must be desperate to see you." He'd called Carol, I knew that much, but he hadn't told me any definite plans.

He frowned slightly. "She's gonna come up tomorrow. The twins are in school today."

I suggested we drive down to them, to be there when Scott and Jamie came home, but Steve shook his head.

"_I said_. She's comin' here." He stood up. "I'm goin' back to bed."

xxXxx

Steve slept until lunchtime. I tried to keep Jay quiet, eventually setting him up to play in the backyard. I also tried not to be pissed, because I could have taken Jay to Ma's, like he wanted, if I knew Steve was going to bail on us, although I was aware I had to make allowances, knowing he must be tired and disoriented from coming home.

So, I got out crayons and markers and let Jay 'draw' for a while, laying the paper on the porch floor and admiring the scribbles until he got bored and demanded something else. We ended up playing 'car wash', one of his favorite games, because it was really an excuse for Jay to splash about with a bowl of soapy water and make bubbles and get himself soaked as he dunked his toys in, one by one. Apparently horses could use the car wash if they liked, as well as his other plastic animals.

Jay and I were making all the animal noises at each other when Steve appeared, blinking against the sunlight.

"We wake you?" I asked, shielding my own eyes to look up at him.

He shook his head. "The phone rang. Didn't ya hear it?" I told him no and asked who it was. He shrugged. "Didn't get there in time." He stretched his neck like it was stiff and ducked inside, reappearing with a bottle of beer that he proceeded to start in on, as he dropped onto the bench and reached for the newspaper I'd left there.

"Is that breakfast or lunch?" I teased. He pulled a face.

"Lunch!" Jay piped up. "I'm hungry."

"You don't say." For a tiny kid, he had a decent appetite. I headed inside, then stopped to check. "You okay to watch him?"

Steve nodded without turning around.

I'd made a sandwich for me and Steve and I was chopping up some apple slices for Jay - who was having a craze for cheese and apple mixed together - when I heard a knock at the front door. Miss Nelson smiled at me.

I must have looked as surprised as I felt, because she started apologizing right away. We weren't scheduled to have a meeting until the next week. The Department of Child Welfare needed some kind of official damn mark on some official freaking form, to show that Steve was home and '_all was fine and dandy in the family home'_, or whatever official crap they insisted on, to sign me off their check list.

Sometimes Miss Nelson herself looked like she had no time for the hoops we had to jump through. I liked her, she'd always been straight as an arrow with me. I beckoned her through, explaining that Steve and Jay were out back. She followed.

Then I remembered that Steve hadn't put a shirt on. And he was drinking beer, on an empty stomach. By the time we got to the kitchen, I could smell that he'd lit a cigarette too. I was just about to suggest that Miss Nelson wait in the front room and that I would bring her a drink, to buy me some time to warn Steve, when Jay spotted us through the back door. He squeaked a happy 'hello', waving furiously. He liked her too.

Suddenly, finding Steve drinking seemed like the least of my worries. I wished I was enormously fat right then, to fill the doorway right up and stop Miss Nelson seeing Jay as he grinned at us. He'd gotten out of his T shirt and was still holding the marker that he'd used to draw on his arms. Some had smudged on his face too, but that was incidental to the loops and lines that went over and around his little biceps.

"Same as Daddy!" he declared happily. "Lookit birdie on me. Lookit, Vevie, lookit!"

I said, "Steve?" quietly. He looked up at me from the newspaper he had spread open on the bench.

"What?" He looked bemused. I pointed at Jay. Steve blinked for a second. Then he snorted with laughter.

"Lookit! I got like Daddy." Jay was still very pleased with himself, twisting his arms out in front. Steve beckoned him over and took the marker from his hand. Then he drew a swiggle on Jay's chest.

"You forgot this one, little man," he said, with a smirk.

"Steve!" I shot him a filthy look and introduced Miss Nelson. Steve stood up, losing any hint of a smile.

Miss Nelson shook his hand and said she was glad to see him home safe. Steve nodded.

I offered her a drink, "...while Steve finishes getting dressed..." I said, pointedly. He stared at me for a second and then marched inside.

I scooped Jay up and set him up at the kitchen table with his apple and cheese slices. He beamed at us happily as he munched.

"I'm pretty sure he's washable," Miss Nelson commented. I was grateful to her, but still felt like we'd flunked some kind of test.

"Steve's just gotta get used to watchin' him..."

"I don't need no excuses made for me." He was back, with a shirt on, arms folded as he glared. I bit my lip.

Miss Nelson suggested we went in the front room. She asked if we'd heard from Steve's lawyer recently. "Miss Roberts was released last month and she's been undergoing a rehabilitation program. She petitioned for custody – "

"The hell she did!" Steve exploded. "She ain't having him!"

"But...I thought she got declared 'unfit'?" I asked, a cold wave of horror spreading over me at the thought of Becky getting her hands on Jay.

Miss Nelson nodded. "It's not something we will be considering, but I thought you ought to know. I'll be writing up a new report, now that Mr. Randle is home and – "

"I don't need no reports written about me!" Steve interrupted her again. "He's my kid. He stays here. That's all there is to it."

"Steve! Miss Nelson is on our side," I told him sharply. He scowled, but he shut up. I thought about the times when she came over and Two-Bit made her giggle. This was not how I wanted her first meeting with Steve to go.

She smiled at me. "Can I make a suggestion? I think this is the time to get your lawyer to formally draw up adoption papers. Counter Miss Roberts's petition once and for all." If that didn't convince Steve that she was one of the good guys, I didn't know what would.

But when she'd gone, he still complained about the state being some kind of fascist interference in his life.

I told him straight he should have been more polite.

"She's the one came into _my_ house."

"Her coming in the house is what kept Jay with me all this time!" I retorted. Our raised voices drew Jay's attention and he scurried into the front room.

"Be shush, Daddy!" he said, with a scowl, climbing up onto my lap. "No yellin' at Vevie." I thought it was cute; it the kind of thing he was told, when he got mad at Toni and they fought over some toy. _'No yelling'_.

But Steve scowled right back and left the room. I heard the ice box open and the clink of bottles, as he retrieved another beer.

xxXxx

Soda's idea. Hmm. I wondered about that, when Steve got off the phone. But I agreed, having him home was plenty excuse enough for raging and if he felt together enough, that was great. I asked him where he wanted to go, to party.

"Why don't everyone come here? – we got the kid to think about, don't we?" he added the second part, before I could object. It wouldn't have made that much difference to Jay, whether he slept at Ma's or at Soda's, but it was nice that Steve was thinking about the logistics of babysitting.

Sarah and Tony arrived first, I knew that was because she would want to leave early. God forbid anything disrupt little Toni's routine. I suppose I should have been pleased that Sarah left the house at all; she turned down a lot of invitations, because she never wanted to leave her daughter.

Steve was treated to his first sight of my niece, who'd been all gussied up for the occasion, with a ridiculous bow in her hair, and who immediately started in bossing Jay around, like she always did. Jay put up with it for about ten minutes, before dissolving into tears – not because he couldn't handle the smaller girl, but because he got reprimanded for snatching back the toy Toni had snatched away from him in the first place.

"My hoss!" he wailed, hiccuping the words between sobs.

"I know, honey," I said, wiping his tears away. "But you gotta share sometimes."

Sarah started on about something she'd read in a magazine about how to get little kids to behave by using a sticker chart or something.

Tony nudged Steve and nodded towards the back door and they disappeared. I gritted my teeth and began to count down the minutes until Sarah would want to go. I wondered if we could persuade Tony to stay without her.

As it happened they weren't the only ones to leave early. Ponyboy was going to Talequah in the morning, to move into his dorm and become the college kid that everyone expected him to be. Darry was driving him down, to see him settled.

"You sure? Like, _real_ sure, this time?" I took the opportunity to talk to him one last time. We'd gone over it any number of times over the summer but I still remembered that lost little boy face, out on their porch last year.

He nodded. "What's the worst that can happen? I hate it...flunk out...Darry never speaks to me again..."

"Pony!"

"Chill. Evie, I'm just kiddin'. I'm sure. I'm _sure_ I'm sure. It's time." He grinned. A genuine, all-his-own, not-a-Soda-copy, grin. Then he reached out and hugged me. "But thanks for asking."

By that point, Jay had given in and was tucked up in bed, Soda and Jo were testing the length of the couch and everyone else was in the kitchen. 'Everyone else' including Elle, who had been working in the junk store for the afternoon and hitched a ride with Two-Bit.

Steve had been real pleased to see her, which made me happier about the prospect of Carol coming the next day. Part of me had considered that Steve just didn't like the fuss of everyone wanting to see him right away. I had another theory about his reluctance to go see her, but I pushed that aside as me just being ridiculous.

There was an impressive amount of empty bottles and cans around the place already.

Tony had handed his car key to Sarah as soon as he saw that Steve had bourbon open. I was pretty sure he wasn't too crocked when she took him home, as early as I'd predicted. Besides, anyone could cope with a small headache the next day. Maybe he could sniff the dry cleaning fumes, to clear his head, I'd suggested with a wink, making him laugh uproariously. Thinking about it, maybe he was fairly lit. I'd hear about it soon enough from Sarah and I knew whose fault it would be, in her eyes.

Steve was trying to extend his bad influence, but he failed to convince Darry to stay late. We walked him and Pony to the front door, to say goodbye.

When we went back through, Soda and Jo had made it as far as the kitchen, although they were still wrapped around each other, Jo on Soda's lap. She made a shushing gesture and pointed out the back door.

I smiled as I saw what she meant. "I knew it!" I whispered.

Two-Bit and Elle were kissing like they just invented the concept, arms tight around each other, lost to anything else. As we watched, they stumbled back against the house wall, without breaking from the kiss. If anything, it got deeper.

"Mathews, get a room!" Soda called, unoriginally. They didn't even react.

"Is this cool? I don't know if this is cool." Steve frowned. I leaned up to kiss him.

"Yeah, it's cool. It's been a long time coming," I told him, with a glance at Jo, who nodded. We'd seen how Elle felt, months ago. It was just Two-Bit who'd needed to wake up and smell the romance in the air.

Eventually they had to breathe. We all broke out into a round of applause. Elle smiled wickedly as they joined us at the table.

Two-Bit rolled his eyes. "Can y'all not watch TV, like normal people, you lousy bunch of perverts?" he demanded. But he was grinning.

"This calls for a toast." Soda poured out enormous shots all around. He threw his glass back in one gulp, while we all looked at him expectantly. He belched. "What?"

"Supposed to say something, baby." Jo elbowed him. "If you're makin' a toast. S'posed to say something before you drink."

"Oh. Right." Soda beamed at her. "_I love you_."

"Naw...Oh, what the hell..." Jo gave up and kissed him.

"To Steve. Home safe," Elle offered, raising her glass.

"Seconded." I nodded, sipping my drink. "And to 'Love'," I added slyly, holding up my own glass, letting my eyes go around the table, from Soda and Jo, to Steve, to Elle. To Two-Bit.

He stretched out his arm, clinked his glass against mine. "Seconded," he said, with a smile. Then he pulled Elle in closer.

I didn't take more than a sip, aware that I would be on call to Jay sooner than would feel comfortable. Instead I turned around and kissed Steve, holding him as close as I could and echoing Elle's comment in my mind: _Home safe._

xxXxx

Despite my best intentions, it still felt like I'd had no sleep at all when Jay came racing into the bedroom. Steve didn't stir. I dragged myself out to the kitchen and poured out some cereal as Jay chattered on, then I told him I was going to get dressed.

Back in the bedroom, I misjudged grabbing the closet door and it snapped back against the wall with a bang.

Steve shot up in the bed with a yell, raised up into a crouch, grabbing for something that wasn't there and ending up with his fists raised in front of himself. His sudden movement made me jump and squeak in surprise and we stared at each other for a long second.

He blinked, eyes flicking around the bedroom, like he was just realizing where he was.

"Sorry," I offered quietly. "Didn't mean to wake ya."

He sat down slowly, rubbing the heel of his hand on his forehead. "_Shit_."

I repeated my apology. He waved it away. "I was...never mind. What time is it?" I told him and he groaned, rolling back onto his pillow.

He eventually surfaced about ten minutes before his family arrived.

Jay was kind of put out; usually he was the main attraction and this time Carol was, naturally, all about Steve. She hugged him and kissed him and told him she liked his hair – maybe it wasn't exactly Army regulation, but it was still too short for my liking. He hadn't shown any interest in greasing it since he got back.

For his part, Steve was shocked at how tall the twins had gotten. They were eight now and I thought it was easier to tell them apart, because Jamie's hair was floppier and Scott had a band of freckles on his nose.

Scott started right on in with questions about the Army. He wanted to know what kind of guns Steve had used and whether he had seen any 'enemies'. He was immediately told to be quiet by both Carol and Walt.

"Aw! I'm not glor-ify-ing war," Scott sighed. This was obviously an old argument. Steve gave a short laugh.

"I ain't got nothin' to tell you, anyway," he said. "Spent most of my time hanging around, waiting on something happening."

Out of patience, Jay resorted to whining for Carol's attention. He elbowed his way onto her lap, cuddling against her. She hugged him, asked him if he was happy to have his daddy home and if he was being a good boy for him.

"And be _shhhh,_ my Daddy sleeps," Jay volunteered solemnly. My heart sank a little. I had spent a fair bit of time telling him that over the last couple of days. Carol laughed and told Steve he deserved a rest.

"Are you going back to work at your old job? The manager said he was keeping a place didn't he?" Walt asked.

"Yeah. Sure, whatever," Steve answered absently, his eyes on Jay and Carol. I chewed my lip. He had only been home a couple of days. If anyone deserved a vacation, it was Steve. But I was slightly freaked that he didn't show any interest in going back to the DX.

And that was only one thing that was nagging at me.

The twins wanted to throw a ball around outside, so we all spread out some and I took the chance to speak to Walt quietly. I told him what I'd noticed, trying to convince both myself and him that I was imagining things, that I'd got it wrong.

A little while later, Walt mentioned casually to Steve that his car wasn't running so good. Carol looked a little surprised.

"I'm kind of out of practice," Steve said, but Walt asked again and they went outside. Steve looked under the hood. He checked the plugs and got Walt to turn the engine over. He frowned. "Sounds okay to me."

Walt shook his head as he climbed out. "It's when it's been running a few minutes." He held the key towards Steve. "Take her out, you'll see what I mean."

Steve slammed the hood and stepped back. "I told you. I'm outta practice. Take it to your autoshop." He walked past me, back into the house.

Now I knew I was right.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Okay, I can't tell if everyone has read the last chapter, the stats are a little screwy, but this one is going up anyway! **

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I fiddled with some old looking bracelets that Two-Bit had on display by his cash register, as I told him what I was worried about. He frowned.

"Are you serious, Tink? Not _once_?"

I shook my head while Two-Bit digested what I'd told him. Then I continued, "You know what he was like when we picked him up, all the excuses...I know what you're gonna say, he was tired, I know all of that. But that was nearly a month ago an', I swear, Two-Bit, he ain't done nothing but sleep since then. And he ain't been near the Chevy."

Two-Bit didn't say anything for a second or two. I knew that meant he couldn't think of an easy, cheerful answer. He thought I was right.

Steve was afraid to drive.

He'd been out of the house, it wasn't that – I admit, for a while I'd been terrified that his reluctance to go out was something similar to Ma's problem. But he'd walked to Soda's house a few times, claiming that he wanted to clear his head or get some air. He used the same excuse if he went out to buy cigarettes. And he'd been out on plenty of evenings, with Two-Bit and with Soda, playing pool or hitting up bars. Never driving.

"Where'd you go last night?" I pushed the point.

"We went to that new place, TJ's, it's near enough so's none of us hadda drive if we got wasted."

"Whose idea was that?"

Two-Bit rubbed his chin while he tried to make the answer something other than what it was, what I already knew. "Steve's," he finally admitted.

"He say anything about goin' back to the DX?" I knew that answer too.

"Look, he probably needs –"

"If you say he needs time to settle back in, I'm gonna scream." I felt my lip start to wobble and I fought to get a hold of myself. "Everything's the same for him, I kept everything goin', all the time he was away. What's to settle?"

"Aw, sweetie." Coming around the counter, he slung his arm around my shoulders and squeezed. "You did so good, with Jay an' all. But it ain't about that is it? You know where he's been. You know what some of these guys are like when they get back –"

"Steve's fine," I interrupted stubbornly. "He didn't get hurt. He ain't like those guys that come home injured." I pushed the memory of what happened to Trey in particular out of my thoughts. We didn't have to cope with that. Steve was whole, uninjured. Goddammit, we survived! I waited so long and I wanted him back, like he used to be.

Instead, I felt almost like I was sharing the house with a stranger.

Two-Bit chewed his lip. "You talk to Soda?"

I shrugged. "I ain't hardly seen him on his own. I tried to say something the other night, but Steve came in."

"I'll talk to him. But you know who you oughta be talking to? Marian. Her husband was in Korea."

That surprised me. I didn't remember ever telling him that.

Elle arrived, a swirl of noise and air from the street sweeping into the store with her. Two-Bit stepped away from me to greet her with a kiss.

I felt stupid for ever pushing him together with Kathy; now that I'd seen Two-Bit in love, it was obvious that there had never been more than a passing attraction for her. The way he looked at Elle, like there was no one else in the world, was something to see.

These days, I was lucky if Steve even noticed I was there. I hadn't told Two-Bit that. I felt disloyal enough as it was, without whining that I felt neglected. Part of me had hoped, when I said 'he ain't done nothing but sleep', that Two-Bit would pick up on the hint. I couldn't bring myself to be any more explicit and so I confined my complaint to the issue about Steve not driving.

xxXxx

I was keeping the old routine going, Jay was at Ma's while I went to work. I knew Sarah was itching to ask why he didn't just stay with Steve, even though that would make her a hypocrite since she acted like her own husband couldn't be trusted to wipe Toni's nose.

There was no way I could tell Sarah that Steve wasn't even awake when I left the house and even if he had been, he'd have had a hangover and no enthusiasm to watch his son. But maybe I could tell Marian. Typically, we were busy that morning and it was practically lunchtime before we had five minutes alone.

I fully intended to start with a sensible question, _'Was your first husband different when he came back from Korea?' _but I didn't even have to do that.

Marian leaned on the counter and said, "Shoot."

I felt like it was spilling out of me, without my even having to choose the words. The fact that Steve spent his days sleeping, his nights drinking or blazing up, until long after I'd fallen asleep. The fact that after the initial euphoria of being back together he hadn't laid a finger on me, barely looked at me. Barely spoke to me even. The way he was blatantly jealous of Two-Bit's relationship with Jay, but:

"...he don't even pay attention to Jay like he should..." Damn, that was something I hadn't said out loud before. I stopped myself, biting my lip and clenching my fists.

"Aw, Sweet Pea, after you waited so long."

Exactly. She got it. I took a deep breath. "I wanted him back so bad. But it don't feel like he is back. Don't feel like it's _him_."

Marian frowned. "Sounds to me like he don't feel like himself, neither. It's gotta be tough, it ain't the same for these guys, this time around, is it?"

"Like how?"

"Like, no ticker tape parades, no 'thanks for winning the war' or nothin'. The guys that came back after '45 were all heroes, even if they never did one heroic thing. It was like one long party. Because we won. Even when Aaron came home from Korea, he was with his buddies, there was a sense of...Oh, I dunno, Sweet Pea. I ain't explaining it well, but it's different this time around. Like there wasn't any point to it."

"You think Steve's got a right to bum around, not go back to work, because we ain't winning in Vietnam?" That was childish and I knew it. I rubbed my forehead, as much to get rid of the idea as the headache that was building up. "I don't mean that. But what'll we do, if he don't come out of this?"

"I don't think he's being deliberately lazy, Evie," she chided me gently.

"He needs to go back to work!"

"You okay for money?" Marian asked. "He getting any benefits?"

"I dunno. I just know I'mma have to go back to full time, if he don't do something." Jesus. I couldn't believe my life was ruled by bills and bank accounts. That was not what it was supposed to be like. Was it?

xxXxx

Marian suggested that I leave a little early but not fetch Jay right away. I wondered if she was right. If having Jay around was affecting how Steve felt. That first day when he came home and it was just the two of us, everything had been great. Hadn't it? Or had I just been so caught up in the joy of having him home that I hadn't noticed any warning signs?

The house was quiet when I let myself in. No surprises there. If Steve wasn't asleep, I knew he'd be out back, smoking. I just hoped it was only tobacco at this time of day.

He was on the top step, looking out at the backyard, elbows on his knees.

"Hey, baby." I sat down next to him. He reacted to my kiss hello with surprise, asked me what time it was. I wondered how long he'd been out of bed for.

"Where's Jay?" As he looked behind me, I tried to believe that it was anything but nervousness in his voice.

"I'mma fetch him later. Come with me. Maybe we could take him to the playground?"

He stiffened just a fraction. If I hadn't had my arm on his, I might not have noticed it. "I'm kind of tired," he said.

I tried to keep my tone light as I asked, "You okay? Like, do you think you're feelin' okay?"

Steve squinted at me. "What?"

"You seem like you're tired a whole lot, maybe you should see the doctor –"

He shook my arm off, angrily. "Jesus Christ! I don't wanna go to the fucking playground one time and I must be sick?"

"You '_don't wanna go'_?" I picked on his change of excuse.

"I got other things to do than play with little kids..." he trailed off.

"Do you?" I'd started down this road, I might as well continue. "Like what, baby? What'd you do today? Did you call up Mike at the DX?"

The narrowed eyes spoke volumes. But, dammit, so what if he thought I was criticizing him. I was. But I wanted to know what was wrong more. I leaned against his shoulder, hoping Steve would see it as a peace-making gesture. "Steve, baby, I miss you. I feel like you didn't come home for real yet –"

"The fuck?" He leaned away from me.

"I mean, you stay up later'n me every night –"

Something flickered behind his eyes. "Is that what this is about? You used to gettin' it more regular?" He launched himself to his feet. "Hell, you think you can make it to the bedroom, or should we just do it right here on the porch?" He yanked on his belt, like he was going to undo it.

I spluttered his name in protest, standing up myself, completely indignant that he would speak to me like that.

"What do you mean, '_Am I used to_..'? You think I been running around on you, while you were gone? How'd I manage that, what with looking after Jay all the time, not to mention having Two-Bit around -" I shut my mouth sharply as he sneered at me. "Oh, _Steve_. You don't think me 'n Two-Bit...?"

"Aw, forget it." He snapped and waved me away, turning his back on me and walking into the kitchen.

"Steve!" This time I was sharper. He stopped but didn't turn around. I stood in the doorway, afraid to ask what I had to know the answer to. "Steve. Do you..." I had to swallow. "Do you think you made a mistake? Marrying me. Taking Jay on. Do you wish you didn't have to come home to us?" That was the only explanation I could come up with, for the way he was pushing me away all the time.

He turned around slowly.

I faced him across the kitchen. I was only just holding onto my emotions. For one awful second I didn't know what his answer was going to be. I was so afraid in that second, I forgot to breathe.

"Oh, my God," he said slowly. "It ain't that. Fucking hell, Evie, it ain't that at all." He took a step towards me. Then, he whirled around and left the room so fast it felt like he sucked all the air out with him and I was left breathless for the second time. What then? _What?_

From the bedroom door I watched as he stuffed clothes randomly into his army duffle.

"What are you doing?" I could see exactly what he was doing, but it felt like a step too far, too fast, to go straight in with 'Don't go.'

"Look, I just gotta split. I can't..." There were no more words to explain what he _couldn't. _His hands were shaking on the bag.

"You planning on takin' the Chevy? Wherever it is you're headed?" It was cruel. I didn't mean it that way, but he flinched. "An' what should I tell Jay? How long you think you'll be gone?"

"Like it matters!" Steve slammed the bag down on the bed. "Like he'd care! He don't need me, no more'n you do. You got it all set up so cozy, every one of y'all, ain't nobody would miss me anyway!"

I let out a screech of frustration. "You lousy asshole! How can you say that to me? How _dare _you say that to me? I waited and _waited_ and I missed you so much. _You're_ the one who ain't interested. _You're_ the one who don't spend no time with us –" I ran over and snatched the bag away from him. _"Don't you dare run out on us now!"_

He jumped, like I'd hit him.

"You don't...you wouldn't..." For a second his eyes shone and he was on the very brink of speaking, then a blank mask dropped over his face and he turned away. "Forget it." He walked out the room, out of the house.

xxXxx

I had to go fetch Jay. I had to go on with life, like I had been doing these last few weeks, knowing something was wrong and not knowing how to fix it. I was more than happy to see Two-Bit strolling up the street as I turned the corner for home.

"Figured I'd come see if I can get him to talk," he said, with an encouraging smile. I wasn't looking forward to explaining that I'd failed miserably myself on that score.

We didn't make any effort to go into the house quietly, because we didn't know Steve was home, let alone asleep in the front room. It didn't make any difference, he wasn't disturbed by the door snapping shut behind us, or by Jay chattering on as he scampered into the room, or by Two-Bit's loud, jokey statement that Steve was a lazy bum and ought to get off his ass and free up the couch.

Steve lay flat out, with an arm across his face.

"Hey, I said 'we're back'." Two-Bit was laughing as he reached down and shook Steve's arm.

A whole lot of things happened in a matter of seconds.

Steve swung out a massive punch as he rolled to his feet in one fluid movement, catching Two-Bit smack in the face and sending him flying onto his backside; he knocked the coffee table over as he hit the floor.

Jay shrieked and flew across the room, flinging himself at Two-Bit, who had blood streaming out his nose. Two-Bit tried groggily to hold Jay and missed, as the kid rounded on Steve with all his two year old strength and shoved on his legs.

"Bad Daddy!" he screamed. "Don't hit my Two-Bit!"

I launched myself at Jay, grabbing him back away from Steve and putting him behind me as I positioned myself in front of Two-Bit, who was climbing to his feet and trying to tell Jay he was okay, even as he was cupping his bloody nose with one hand.

Seconds. A matter of seconds.

Steve blinked at us, as if he was only now waking up. He reached his hand out but Jay yelled, "No! Go 'way!" and threw his arms around Two-Bit's legs, sobbing his name. With a look of absolute horror, Steve took a step backwards, bumped the couch and sat down hard. He covered his face with his hands and burst into tears.

I didn't know what to do. My eyes went from one to the other of all of them, then back again. I felt my own lip wobble. What the hell had just happened? Who should I go to?

Two-Bit looked back at me over the top of his hand, his grey eyes full of confusion. But then he moved, scooping Jay up with his free arm and carrying the sobbing toddler out of the room, making the decision for me.

"Steve? Baby?" I sat down next to him and put my hand carefully on his shoulder. He reached out and held onto my fingers tightly, but kept the other hand over his eyes.

"I thought I was...I must've been dreaming..." he choked out the words. "I thought I was back there." He scrubbed his eyes and looked at me with sudden fear. "Oh, God. Did I hurt Jay?" I shook my head. "Did I touch you? Are you sure I didn't hurt Jay?" he panicked. I told him no, over and over.

"We're okay. Steve, I promise, you didn't." _Why didn't he know? Why didn't he remember? _"Jay was upset because you punched Two-Bit. You didn't hurt Jay."

Steve blinked. "Two-Bit...?" He jumped to his feet. "Shit. I didn't mean to. I swear I never meant to. _Shit_."

I followed him out of the room and we found them in the bathroom. Two-Bit was holding a wet towel to his nose, as he sat on the edge of the tub and bounced Jay on his knee. Jay scowled mightily and patted Two-Bit's cheek.

"Lookit you did, Daddy," he said fiercely. "_Bad_ Daddy."

"Yeah. You got me there, kid." Steve swallowed. "Two-Bit, man, I'm sorry. I never...I mean...Shit, man, did I bust it?" His voice was real small.

Two-Bit nodded. "Could be." He was muffled sounding, like he had a cold. He lifted the towel away slowly. "How's it look?"

I hissed through my teeth. His nose was swelling already and was quite definitely at a new angle. It was still pouring blood.

"I'm sorry. Man, I'm real sorry." Steve shook his head. "I don't know what happened. I'm sorry." He backed out of the bathroom until he hit the wall opposite the door. His eyes were huge and he seemed to be having trouble catching his breath.

"Jay, honey, I need you to get down." Two-Bit tried to prise Jay from his neck. He shot me a panicky look. "Tink, I'mma get sick. You need to take him..."

I grabbed Jay just in time for Two-Bit to lean forward and puke into the toilet. He must have swallowed a heap of blood. He gasped for breath, between heaving and holding his nose.

Jay was wrapped onto me like a limpet, whimpering around the thumb in his mouth, but I managed to give Two-Bit a fresh towel. He was looking real pale.

"Steve. I think he needs a doctor." I turned around. Steve looked at me blankly. "_Steve_!"

He shook his head. "I can't..."

"You have to!" I demonstrated that I could hold both hands out and Jay still clung to me. "I can't drive like this."

"I'll look after Jay." There was desperation in his voice. Hearing his name, Jay shied away from his father. Steve looked like he was going to cry again. Behind us, Two-Bit groaned, leaning forward to spit more blood in the toilet.

"Steve," I said quietly. "Two-Bit needs you to help him."

Steve nodded slowly. He held my gaze, even as he walked into the bathroom. Like he would lose the will to move or something, if I wasn't the one making it happen.

"C'mon, man." He grabbed Two-Bit's arm, then put his arm around him, guiding him out and towards the front door. Steve reached for the Chevy key as he passed the table in the entryway.

I watched as he took a deep breath, laying his hands on the steering wheel slowly. Then he turned the engine over and backed out onto the street.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Well, I kind of blew my updating schedule this week. It's Saturday night for me now, but I'm thinking, why not? So, here we go... As always, your thoughts are appreciated. :) **

* * *

Kids are...resilient. Is that the word? Jay calmed down pretty quick after Steve and Two-Bit left. Even more so, once I'd let him have milk and cookies in front of 'Daktari'. I tried to talk to him, tell him that Steve hadn't meant to hurt Two-Bit. I wished I could convince myself in the same kind of simple terms. Focusing on Jay didn't stop my mind replaying what had happened.

Steve hadn't known where he was, or what he'd done. Not right away. What if it had been me leaning over him, or – God forbid – Jay? Would he have lashed out in the same way?

As far as explaining it to Jay went, I used the example of a plate he'd recently broken. He'd cried at the noise and the unexpected sight of the pieces littering the kitchen floor and I'd kissed away his tears and told him not to worry, it was an accident. I used the same term, talking about Steve.

"Ascident?" Jay repeated suspiciously.

"Yeah," I said firmly. "You didn't mean to drop the plate and Daddy didn't mean to push Two-Bit." _Push_, not 'punch'. Oh, God. "Sometimes, you push Toni, right, when you're mad? And she pushes you?"

He frowned at me.

"Daddy made a mistake and he's sorry."

"And Two-Bit got an owie." His little face was solemn.

I nodded. "Well, yeah. He did. But Daddy will tell him 'sorry'." Like we made the kids apologize, when they got out of hand and fought with each other. It was the best I could do, to explain the unexplainable.

I was still trying to come up with some kind of answer for myself, long after I got Jay to bed, when I heard the Chevy outside, as I sat in the front room, thinking. I hadn't put the lights on, just one table lamp was keeping it from being dark. I didn't move from where I was curled into the armchair.

"Evie?"

I looked up in surprise when Soda said my name from the doorway. He smiled tightly.

"Two-Bit called me from the emergency room. He couldn't drive still and Steve..."

"What?"

"I brought him home, but if you want I'll take him back to our pad..." Why would I want that? I didn't understand. Soda came in and sat opposite me. "He got Two-Bit there okay, but I guess after the doc saw to his nose, it wasn't like...urgent no more, y'know? Steve couldn't...He _couldn't _drive back."

"You mean the adrenaline wore off?"

Soda nodded. "Yeah, that's what the doc said. Uh, Steve got kind of...upset. He kind of panicked when he tried to drive, got like he couldn't breathe. They...uh." He looked embarrassed. "They had to give him something to, y'know, bring him down..."

I stood up. "Is he okay?"

Soda nodded and stood to catch my arm and stop me going out. "Yeah, yeah, Two-Bit's in the car with him. But Steve said some stuff. About...over there. 'Nam." He looked like he wanted to cry, which freaked me out a little.

"Is he okay?" I repeated, more forcefully. Soda grimaced.

"I think we gotta hear him out, to answer that."

I nodded.

He went out to the car and the three of them came into the house. This time, roles reversed, Two-Bit's arm was around Steve, to guide him, like he was loaded. I winced at the sticking plaster over Two-Bit's nose – he already had two black eyes coming up – but he waved away my concerned look.

Steve shied away from me as I went to hug him. "I can't be here, I don't deserve to be here," he muttered – to Soda, not to me.

"Is Jay sleeping?" Soda asked me quietly. When I nodded, he swapped his arm for Two-Bit's and steered Steve to the door of the little bedroom. "Look," he whispered, as he opened the door a little way, revealing Jay all tucked up in bed. "He's fine. Didn't I say he'd be okay?"

Steve's lip wobbled and Soda turned him back to the front room. I closed Jay's door quietly.

Two-Bit took one of the armchairs and Soda put Steve at that end of the couch, before lowering himself to the floor between the two of them, leaning back on Two-Bit's chair so they were both facing Steve. That left me the choice of the other chair or sitting next to Steve.

Steve blinked at all of us, his eyes slightly spacey. I leaned in and kissed him, even though he pulled away from me.

"I love you," I said, before I curled into the other end of the couch. He didn't respond, other than to shake his head slightly. I knew that Two-Bit was looking at me, trying to offer me a comforting smile, but I kept my eyes on Steve.

"Steve? Buddy, you gotta let us in." Soda's voice was low, but calm. I was reminded of when he got Steve through the day of Eddie's funeral. _Let us do for you. _That was always so difficult for Steve. He never admitted to needing help, never liked to be seen as less than the toughest, less than in complete control. "Whatever it was, man, whatever happened over there..." Soda tried, but the words trailed off as Steve's head came up, eyes almost unfocused. I remembered how it felt, back when I took Ma's Valium. I guessed that the hospital had given Steve something similar. He spoke slow and quiet:

"I thought I was fucking invincible is what happened. I thought I knew better, I could do it. I was so fucking sure that I could do it..."

"Steve, buddy, you're going to haveta tell us what the hell you're talking about," Two-Bit spoke into the silence that Steve left. He still sounded like he had a cold, his nose all stuffed.

Steve was looking off into the distance. "It wasn't how I imagined. None of it. When you're out with the track, it's all long distance, all happening somewhere else, y'dig? It ain't like..." He swallowed. "I saw more snakes than I did gooks. Did I tell ya that? Fucking big snakes, too, some of 'em."

I shot a look at Soda and Two-Bit, not sure how this was helping. Steve was just rambling, reminiscing.

"Buddy, tell us what you told me, back at the hospital." Soda got Steve's attention back, gently prodding his foot. "You said you couldn't drive no more because of Patterson."

Steve drew a breath in. "I didn't," he whispered.

"Yeah, man, you did. Before the doc gave you those pills...you said, _'I can't do it. Patterson died because of me.'_"

I gasped, which made Soda look guilty.

"Patterson. I didn't even know him." Steve was shaking slightly. "I only knew his name..." He turned his face briefly to me. "I'm sorry, babe, I'm so sorry. I did something stupid." I didn't understand why he was apologizing to me. He leaned forwards again, elbows on his knees, as the words spilled out of him:

"I had it so easy, like you wouldn't believe, like you wouldn't fucking believe..." Steve closed his eyes before he went on, took a steadying breath. "Those last three months? I got reassigned when they took the track in for maintenance. Not up country, all the fucking vehicles are back at the camp, with the supplies and shit, that's where the maintenance happens, nothing dangerous..." His voice rose slightly. "I was bored. Can you believe it? And then, this kid from Tennessee who was on roster to drive, he got sick. And they were short a driver...so I said I'd do it. Savvy? _I. Fucking. Volunteered_." This time when his eyes came up, he sought out Soda. "I never thought about Evie. About Jay. I was just bored, counting down the days left..."

Soda nodded, like he understood, like he was giving Steve permission to carry on talking. I bit my lip hard. Steve spoke, his voice eerily calm again:

"It was just supposed to be a supply run. Taking some radio parts to the next base. Mail call, even. So I said I'd drive. I _volunteered_ to drive. There were three of us in the convoy, two jeeps and a truck. It wasn't hot country, hadn't been any sightings for weeks."

We waited again, while he looked at the carpet.

"I don't know if it was a land mine or a grenade. But the truck behind us went up first. It just...exploded. Then there was firing and everyone was yelling and the jeep in front of me went off into the ditch. And I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't go back, the road was gone, what was left of the truck blocking it. I didn't know what else to do..." Even with the drugs, he was getting panicky as he spoke and Soda scooted forwards, gripping Steve's arm_._

Steve shuddered. "Maybe I should've stopped. Should have waited. I mean, the truck was gone, the other jeep was gone. I think Bloom, in back of me, bought it right away. But Patterson, he was alive. He was right next to me, the bullets went clear across him, but stopped before they got to me. Why? I volunteered to drive...Why'd it hit him an' not me?"

Soda murmured, "It's okay, man, it's all okay."

"I know he was alive. He said, 'Go', he said that, I swear. I just drove. We weren't that far out, I figured I could get to the next base. Get Patterson to the medics. I was pretty certain Bloom was gone, I never heard him make a noise, but I could have stopped, tried to help Patterson, give him First Aid. But he said, 'Go'. The last thing he said to me was, '_Go_.' I tried. I really tried. I drove as fast as I could. I drove it like a fucking race car. I thought I could do it."

Steve finally took a breath, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Not fast enough. I couldn't get him back in time. He bled out. I got us there and I turned to him, to say, 'Hey, man, we did it.' And he was gone. I didn't drive fast enough...The blood, man. So much blood. Like that night. Like...like..._Dallas_..."

With a wordless cry, Soda launched up onto his good knee, grabbing Steve into a hug. I locked eyes with Two-Bit, but he had no comforting smile this time; he looked as shocked as I felt.

"See?" Steve was whispering hoarsely, between his tears, into Soda's shoulder. "How do I deserve to be here? With Evie, with Jay? When I nearly threw it all away..."

I scooted across the couch on my knees, sliding my arms around him, telling him it didn't matter, that none of it mattered except for the fact that he came back to us, to me. He twisted around to hug me back, burying his face against my middle, sobbing out how sorry he was.

Soda, edging back again, had tears sliding down his cheeks too. Two-Bit put a hand down and gripped his shoulder as Soda slumped back against the chair.

Apart from relaxing him to the point where he finally talked, whatever the doctor had given Steve was making him sleepy too. I made room by moving back into the corner of the couch and he lay with his head on my lap as I stroked his hair.

"I can't believe I just bawled like a baby in front of y'all," he mumbled.

"Yeah, you pussy." Soda sniffed and scrubbed his own tears away with his sleeve.

"Pansy," Steve retorted drowsily. Soda tried to smile, but Steve's eyes were already closed.

When I was sure that he was asleep, I looked at the other two. "This was right before he came home?"

Soda shrugged. "I think so, from what he said at the hospital." We kept our voices only just audible.

"He was...safe, for so long."

"He made a mistake, Tink, he would never have deliberately gone into danger."

I nodded at Two-Bit. I was only thinking aloud, trying to get my head around what Steve had been through. If it had happened right before he came home, he was probably still in shock when he got back to Tulsa. I guessed it was nothing special to the Army, nothing they felt they needed to help him with. He wasn't injured himself. Guys over there must see awful, horrible things all the time. Soldiers just have to get on with it.

But it wasn't the first time Steve had seen someone shot dead.

"It made him think about Dallas. The blood brought it back, about Dallas." I realized I could hardly blame the Army for its attitude, when none of us had ever properly dealt with stuff, right here at home; Steve had always refused to talk about exactly what happened that night, and I'd never pushed him to, even though I knew it had affected him deeply.

"I went back, every night for a week." Two-Bit's sudden comment hung in the air between us. "I tried to wash the bloodstain away."

"Me too." Soda looked surprised. "When Darry was sitting with Pony, I went out with a bucket of water."

Two-Bit's eyes were distant. "I don't walk on that bit of the sidewalk no more, but I think it's still there, the stain..."

I had no way of imagining what it had been like, to see anyone, to see a _friend _die like that, in front of you.

Soda wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "I dreamed the noise of the cops' guns for a long time."

"It don't sound like it does in the movies," Two-Bit added. "I thought the sound when he...when _Dally_ hit the ground was louder than the guns. That's what I hear." Soda frowned slightly, like he didn't agree, but he didn't contradict him.

I'd never before heard either of them talk directly about that night.

I thought about all the nights I'd woken up to find Steve lying there, unable to sleep. All the nights when he stared at the ceiling, or even got up and walked the streets, rather than go back to dreaming.

"Steve still dreams about it." I told them, then corrected myself, "I mean, he did, before he went away. I know he did." What his dreams were like now, I was frightened to imagine. But it made such awful sense that what happened in Vietnam would get tangled with his memories of Dallas.

Soda's eyes were full of sadness. "D'ya think this, I mean, telling us tonight...d'ya think it will help him?"

I stroked Steve's hair gently. "I hope so."

We talked some more, then silence drifted along until Two-Bit's head started nodding.

"Okay if I crash here, Tink?" he asked, with a yawn for punctuation. I nodded, told him of course it was okay.

"Me too?" Soda looked up, half asleep himself. "I can take the couch, if we get Steve to bed."

Two-Bit froze, half out of the chair, his eyes on mine, obviously remembering what happened the last time we woke Steve.

"He ain't like that every time," I said softly, "but once before, when I startled him, he jumped up..." If only I'd known, if only I'd thought of that before Two-Bit woke him this afternoon.

"Okay. So we don't startle him none." Two-Bit leaned an arm down to help Soda onto his feet. They hovered at the end of the couch, but there was nothing I could do to stand back – Steve's head was still pillowed on my lap.

Soda pulled a 'here goes nothing' face and shook Steve's foot gently. He didn't stir. Soda tried again and this time Steve rolled a little and looked up at me.

"Hey, baby. Time for bed." I smiled. He smiled back, a genuine smile that lasted a whole second before it fell. His thoughts danced across his face as he remembered the events of the last few hours.

Steve got up slowly and turned to me, then Two-Bit. "I am so sorry," he whispered hoarsely.

Soda was nearest the door and he jumped the most as a little voice said, in fair imitation of every adult who'd ever praised _him_: "Good boy, Daddy."

Jay rubbed his eyes sleepily as he walked in between the guys, trailing Wrench in one hand, right up to Steve. He held up his arms in complete expectation of being picked up and so that was what Steve did. Jay hooked one arm tight around Steve's neck, his other thumb going into his mouth.

"An' no push Two-Bit no more," he mumbled, as he nestled into his dad's shoulder.

"You got it, little buddy." Steve bent his head to Jay's hair, looking like he'd been reprieved from the electric chair.

Once we put Jay back and put ourselves to bed, I realized Steve was only half looking at me.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Are..._we _okay?" was his nervous response.

I opened my arms and pulled him into a hug. I said what I needed him to hear and I said it calm and quiet: "I ain't gonna lie to you, Steve. I'm angry, somewhere inside, that you put yourself in danger. But –" I cut off his apology, "it don't mean a thing next to the fact that you're home. You're safe now, that's all that matters. Y'hear me? That's _all_ that matters."

He relaxed against me.

"Promise me," I whispered, as he started to fall asleep again. "Promise me that you will let us help you. You don't need to handle everything on your own. Stop pushing me away."

He nodded. And I didn't let myself weep until I was sure he was sleeping again.


End file.
